I drank from the cupof the flowing stream of verseand was thus poisonedwith the charms of what can bein one's imagination
Tag: poem
Posthumous
Perhaps all my wordswill be cherished when I'm goneaging like fine wine…Appreciation in death'sthe tragedy of poets
A day in the life of..
I walked down the street a merry song on my lips;a million li'l things did cross my path and my mind saying 'You do not matter'I tried not to seenot to let them get to me continued singing;but my singing got softer ...slowly fading and dyingHow do I convince the heart that has always been… Continue reading A day in the life of..
Wildflower
No peony am Ino refined graces have I to boast ofnor am I a rose,that coveted, is too proud to disarm herselfof her many swordsI am not the stoic lotusthat grows only amid earthy destructionfor I need love,lord knows I need love to growas sunshine from the purest of soulsnourishment in rays of gold...I am… Continue reading Wildflower
The Innocent Prisoner
He walked in kicked and beaten like a street mongrel,smelling of the gutter, bent and frail;sinned and shamed, he walked in for life -would he reveal his innocence? No, friendship is sanctified. The inmates lined up for the daily broth, men and women of every sort –the criminals, the murderers, the sufferers -casting vacant glares… Continue reading The Innocent Prisoner
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