Michael Kevin Spencer > Writing | WritersCafe.org

You were, like a pillow on a bed The brief comfort of my life Turned on its end, inside-out A pregnant sort of reclining head To dart..

Here is no water but only rock Here is no heart but only profit The road is winding from city to city And futility runs like a sneer and..

My heart is heavy with compassion Heavy with the pain of a selfish lifetime I seek not the happiness of repetition But feeling,..

Philosophy, Sociology and Environmentalism.

Lyrics to the Woman-Of-the-Rose O Rose of sick sweet trembling warmth! How I yearn for crevices and flesh of shafts Like a naked H..

2 poems of this morning.

Tribute Give me your special fragments, Emily Dickinson Charm me with your erudite banter, Auden How you fostered me into literature, Donne ..

These were the last poems Where a life was lost To reality, the gentlest of sayings The intended things were Not easily said The intended of..

The purpose of poems fill My rooms, like new crowds Each garden, still-starred When the house is evening A prescience of oncoming dreams These ..