Part XXIII January 1, 1999, I moved from my home, left with only my clothes and books, slept on a futon mattress on a cold, drafty floor, choked on tears and phlegm, coughed and wished myself dead every single waking moment; I swallowed just enough…
Category: Marathon Poem
7am
The movement of his mouth told more than the truth and less than the lies
On a winter’s afternoon- when the magic happened
One wishes deep down inside for the Magic to happen On the surface an air of detachment Disbelief that such a thing can Happen in the physical From a soul level the outcry to Find the magic and the oneness With another soul is…
Tyranny: just go to bed
Ask yourself If the tyranny Be in your place In your home Your city Your land Your country Your sea Ask yourself Then go to bed See how you feel when you look In the mirror In the morning We will talk more then
Inner Voices
Be careful how you speak to yourself! That will never work; you’ll look like a fool. Don’t say that to yourself, you fool- It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is just the truth, you fool Makes no difference whether I say it or not. But if…
Soul Searching
You want to understand me You want to wipe my tears But you can’t defend me Until you taste my fears Racing with the tempest Barely catch my breath But it keeps me laughing I must confess I want to catch that thunder…
“At 14 Victoria Road”
The hesitant knocking Disturbed his slumber. Opening the door, He looked at the woman. “Can you help me?” was her plea. “I just need someone to talk to.” In astonishment, all he could say was, “I’m sorry. I cannot.” He closed the door…
Thank you my friend ..
My eyes were open Brain was tired Thought I will lost everything desired The goal was near View seemed blurred I was about to quit When my nose picked An aroma so tempting That I couldn’t sit My hands felt the warmth Lips tasted sweet…
Seasons Change: 6AM post
The morning is clear the air is crisp Summer is fading for autumn’s arrival Still about a month away Leaves turn an array of colors some sooner than others.
(xxii)
intransigents in this ‘relating’ to her – stone-cold catacombs of her heart; the tortuous maze that is her glance, and a half-smile playing on lilac lips…. specious like his words of seduction.