Your eyes don’t know where to turn So many colours and shining all around I am a flock of seagulls Flying away from haven And hoping for a better place To fly and rest in all colours A place where they look invisible And no…

In contrast to our past lovemaking; we don’t talk; Instead, we act; My mouth goes to work on her breasts; While her hand heads further down; As does mine; We stroke each other; Faster and faster; Faster; I am hers, I think; I’m her bitch;…

HOUR TWENTY POEM # 20 24 HOUR POEM MARATHON LUCKY DUCK There is a little duck, We will name Buck. His mother almost died, We all stood and cried. A miracle was given, Momma is still livin. Now this little duck, We will name luck….

I’ve started composing poems in my dreams, But they shatter upon waking and are unusable. My arms are laden with gifts in the other world, But through the portal they cannot pass, And my hands are empty when I arrive on this side. But no…

William Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson were discovered in spite of the lack of a Poetry Marathon. (Emily was actually discovered posthumously) And all the poet greats in between lived lives of napping and eating and working and raising children. They were not trying to be…

I see them Those memories They flash in non-linear fashion A long line up of regret One soul Losing in dreams Lasting in drama Drifting thru past lives In the present name I see them A line of lovers Friends betrayed Friends believed in Long lists…

Floating above, I look on my life. I’ve gotten the part in the play! I know my lines, I’ve practiced, rehearsed. Stage make up is all in place. The show goes well, They ask for encore. Who am I to decline? The costume seems real….

How interesting to find that your final rejection should bring such relief… black strands of needy fatness falling away from me like rain; with none of the resistance I expected. How interesting to learn that the knowing of you was my pain – and not…

Marcy is the best friend I have My former friends to her, a halve

In the sudden snow storm, the blizzard that white washed the landscape, you guided us home by instinct. Noone could see where fields and ditches and streets connected, so thick was winter’s blanket. The flakes falling like feathers from heaven weighed down my lashes and…