Michael Kevin Spencer > Writing | WritersCafe.org

At the bottom of the written word We the summit, of the beautiful victim Who will know how much we loved Our ethereal steps of lan..

There is only one music, truly.

I catch a glimpse of the truth She says she is a few steps away A man tempts his love to reclaim a debt Beautiful is the habit of unconscious..

my manifesto for 2013

I gasped at threads of silver The bargain God had made with nature In me for poetry, for curses and prayers That knocked at the door ..

There is a skinny voice That rips from leatherfaced age The formula of Divine Averages Anticipation for musical white spring! Feet that..

Nothing is more exactly terrible Than to be alone in the house In the world, with nobody You are gone, and despair impersonates Me a..

Then this is morning, Have you no comfort for me? No daily bread, morning kiss? Dreams to tell, and obscure pity Behind your eye..

When night drifts alone Along the streets of a barren city I'll tell you I missed, no part of what you gave me I missed the Pagan temples, ..

Tread softly Sarah, scuffle no dust The best of me has blown away Like incense at a lost altar Might I sign, some gesture of forgiveness..