Burning echos into memories of dark nights, silent flights of the soul seeking solitude, sharp spirals so devined of travesty. My savior of...
{~*~} ยด Beyond balance dwells the eternal idea encircling humble bumble bee and the stoic spire of chisled redwood tree, The inherent...
Robbins is definetly one of my favorite writers. Turn around Norman has to be one of the best characters ever invented. Still Life with...
The last stanza is actually my favorite. It gives a nice contrast.
Subtle perplexion is my path of direction, in digression there I sleep to the rhythms of some unclean thought that refuses to reveal itself to my...
And what remains if all is whirling in the tempest, atoms dissolved to nonentities and corrosion the only thing to blossom from the bleak?
Hands twirl lazy loops circles unspoken and we dance this way ceaseless dreamers tranced by the rocking Frames bend like loose limbs in a stormy...
I wrote it kind of like a monologue, so to be read aloud. Glad you picked that up.
With the wake of waxy wane she trained her smile on the flame as dusty charcole arcs of tooth reflected the tragic and uncouth version of the...
:) Glad you liked it.
I love this poem. My favorite stanza: "like one who wakes as September uncovers the valley emptied of rain, she must have spent an entire summer...
I am a metamorphosis of dark statue to crumbling dust, a battling caterpillar threatening imminence the constrains of cage and cocoon. Sweep...
I see through blurred vision, and all the outlines in my life are hazy with little distinction. A beautiful look into this phenomenon.:)
Thanks everyone. Pulse on sylvan.
I never lost the dark pools of lightning in those effervescent hours of dawn, a shattered window into the beyond of that pink teasing sky. Spine...
It's always good to be intriguing while dabbling in visuals and scents. ;)
I'm glad you're back! I love this poem.
The celestial breezes of those moments...:)
I found this beautiful and intriguing. I love the images and ideas, and your ending is effortless and perfect.
Crimson honey exudes no gift as primary. It imagines vermillion staircases and angry shard prints, say...his wall mural when it was shot and...
Separate names with a comma.
