Excess The line Between excess and abundance A belief thin divide Made of Woven choices Inherited treasures Evolving appraisal How to sort Your laughter tipped out Leaving rooms awash Your tinder heart’s Flammable radiance Your holy longing Arching over sensible thresholds Your unbridled voice Setting…
Category: Miscellaneous
#IDon’tKnow
My childhood seems so far away though I am not yet an adult not by the definition the people go for I have yet to wake up frowning and fret over stuff a simple smile could solve I have yet to know that life is…
Music
I have a small gripe It’s not much Just a little snipe. It is not a matter of Pota-TOE vs Po-TAH-to that’s just a bunch of clatter Music is personal there is emotion attached its connections are special It is ironic sometimes that the ones…
Hour 7 Early
I know which came first I’m not telling anyone Because I’m chicken
The Avatar Inside
To light a fire and watch it burn. It only consumes what you feed it, once tamed. A river controlled is lying damned; to go without hesitation, stay free flowing. Full of destruction is a focused funnel of air, breathe and release. Anger and confusion,…
I’m Not Allowed to Listen to Music
Trauma. Everyone has experienced it on some level. No one’s trauma is greater than someone else’s. No one can tell anyone else how their personal trauma should affect them. A month ago, trauma found its way to my home. And that is how I ended…
No Sweat…. Well Maybe Just a Little (A Tanka, Hour Seven)
No Sweat Sweat floods my forehead Heartbeat throbs betwixt my ears Pursuing my poetry Is much harder than I thought! (A tanka is usually five lines with a 5/7/5/7/7 syllable count.)
Small
Hour 6 Small My mind is shut small only has so much room can’t squeeze in even a tiny bit more. Don’t want to. I was born this way. grew up baling hay, don’t want nothin else. Why would I? I’m…
Poetry-Hour 7
Poetry courses through my veins and arteries I feel the words climb up my spine and the sentences climb back down I am all aware now though half asleep Dreaming in my own writer’s way Me, my fingers and this keyboard Spin in our own…
Crossing roads
It’s been an honor to be many things and to be with so many people I look forward to crossing more streams, roads, bridges, and paths