creative, eclectic, artistic, at 2 A.M, I am still wide awake for ideas come flooding at this wee hour at dawn in a trance, an insomniac, while others are still fast asleep here I am at the threshold of my creation. there’s something in the…

I can glimpse the flaws in your shield. Where the smallest breeze can slip through, or where the flame brightest, and the smooth impermeable armor can be torn away. I can only imagine how easily you can see through me. My transparency could be seen…

Positioned for the climax When every passion is at its peak Sometime the route is quick Oftentimes it feels as if one is embarking towards the unknown Or doing the opposite of what they say will be their end result A going left to get…

Young teen boy stands on Commonwealth Ave isolated from the bustle around him, headphones delivering his own cacophony, chewing gum, seemingly in another place. His tee-shirt reads, “Kennedy 1917-1963.” Before he was a gleam In his father’s eye And just a star In the night…

I have always imagined it to be like walking on water, all the way to Spain. Or Nova Scotia. I’ve never been to Halifax. There might be shipwrecks there from that exploded boat and I’ll be the one to find the missing brooch, a letter…

meeting me in  this treasure island surely it is just the beginning of day haunting of yesterday   doing the routine of the day making sure everything amazing and dazzling just be honest to oneself surely awaiting for the after hours   making the day…

I feel the softness of you, pressed against me. Feather-light, blood-warm, sugar-sweet saltiness that is you in the morning. Your lips at my throat, your hands at my ribs, fanning across the indentations like a blind man searching for the Braille poetry of our desire,…

I found hope in a heartbeat It hid from me for the longest time, Just as a watched pot never boils, is sought hope ever found? I left it behind, declaring myself-by name,  hopeless Until a sleepy night where the moon intoxicated me- I shut…

Moonlight and poetry Virginia Carraway Stark I dreamt I wrote a poem It was stuck in a moonbeam I couldn’t get it out Just gazed at it in longing Thinking That If kisses Were like poetry That could get stuck in moonbeams They would be…