In my lazy left hand, I grip the dregs of mercy. I can not see her. I can not call or write her. Oh god, she does not even know the sound of my quivering voice. Yet I have spoken her name twenty times a day for five years.Who among you knows how truly sil...
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Just Stories
Tonight, I vow by the spirals God wove into my fingertips,That if I am not poet perfect. I shall never write these words again. "I love you, Basil. "I stood in the eclipse of a rainbow. I cried two even tears that the sun had killed the storm clouds. I...
Some work is far too real. The grand stuff of usefulness. Can you imagine the right hand of God (atom.)As he wandered the fresh reality and gave it names. What kind of insight and sacred creativity does it take to say this is called sunlight? Did he creat...
I’ve never written quite so many poems as I have for you.Now fiddling with formats,I find myself going *mew*.I love you, Aria...To infinity,times the powerof infinite love.
'Doing' Words
I like to play about with words, some of them work, some of them don't'Doing' Words Superlatives and adjectives, are words that do describe. A verb-ing word is a doing term, behind which I can hide. Full stops and commas - I infuse, with words to halt or pause. Without such things, I'd soon be seen writing un-verbose? I get...