Poetry: True |
That I am indeed a goon, idealists cannot grief-
For what propels me forward not, is opposite belief.
Conquest to kill distraction through each horizon plain-
For foolish maunders carryout! ...
Posted by on Fri, 08 May 2009 20:16:00 GMT |
Poetry: A Temple is for Worship (haiku) |
We treat ourselves with
sex. Making love,
flesh, bones all
a commodity.
Posted by on Fri, 08 May 2009 20:15:00 GMT |
Poetry: The Peasants |
To those who swear to sit and feast-upon the grains of breading least-though many then, but few to fast-those futures hindered of the past. Clamored, frozen, is what of me-heiress authors her adversi...
Posted by on Wed, 09 Apr 2008 16:31:00 GMT |
Poetry: Aroma of Truth |
What is the use of eyes,
if I cannot see?
What is the use of ears,
when I cannot hear?
Shall I lie here
with eyes closed tight,
so I may see You?
For I am deaf to all sound...
Posted by on Tue, 26 Feb 2008 02:33:00 GMT |
Poetry: Cheating the Willow |
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Posted by on Tue, 26 Feb 2008 01:28:00 GMT |
