.o sweeheart. |
O Sweetheart,
I never could explicate
...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Apr 2007 11:42:00 GMT |
.an eroding monument. |
Cries under a black rain cloud.
Just stands there;
unbending;
An eroding monument
covered in leaves and the excrement
fallen from city pigeons;
waiting for someone
to, minimally and at the very least...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Apr 2007 11:38:00 GMT |
.notes from a mobile home holiday. |
He is a big and hairy beast.
She is an alcoholic
who never forgets her pink lipstick.
She wakes up, sometimes,
curled up in doorways.
They dwell fragmented;
lacking in cohesion
with the dead r...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Apr 2007 11:35:00 GMT |
.unrequited benevolence. |
He walks with balled up shoulders
and a focused child-like gaze
through the tumultuous city alone
misjudged as a misanthrope.
The people's ignorance denies
he desperately and incessantly
yearn...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Apr 2007 11:32:00 GMT |
.fleeting thoughts i collected from the train passengers. |
I.
In this man lies
uncertainty.
His love buds and blooms
&n...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Apr 2007 11:26:00 GMT |
Letter To Death |
In you, my purity will be restored;Your corrading gust, I feel briefly; though often. Why, then, do you not halt? I rap with fervent prayer; and knotted fists.I...
Posted by on Wed, 05 Apr 2006 14:24:00 GMT |
Listen To Their Lying Tongues |
Haunted by the voices,I sit here alone and listento their lying tongues;Broken down inside what is supposed to be my personal solitude;My very own shelter, in which I have built,with my crumbled ...
Posted by on Fri, 03 Feb 2006 05:37:00 GMT |
Part Of Me Is Not Comely |
What part of me is not comely?Could it be that my skin isillegible?It is not fair as snow;nor is it swarthy like the night.Possibly, it is my breasts.They are subtle and do not takemuch attention.
Posted by on Fri, 03 Feb 2006 05:31:00 GMT |
Fall, I Did Not |
I, once and for all, let you die;let you go.You look on or up fromdistances staking youunreachable.Resentful you sit, for I did buckle,but fall, I did not.
Posted by on Fri, 03 Feb 2006 05:27:00 GMT |
Untitled |
He stood totter on the front porch,as did the unkempt homesas far down the streetas his vision would allow.With a cigarette he rolled himselfso naturally lodged;and just slightly adhered by the moistu...
Posted by on Fri, 03 Feb 2006 04:55:00 GMT |
