|
Wrapped in the pale
gown of
The morning fog, or wearing the
Dark, heavy coat of evening,
I’ve been pacing between
The house and th..
|
|
Star gazers swear it’s the
Movement of the heavens,
Conjunctions, aspects,
Planets and houses deciding
Whether a man falls or rises..
|
|
To truly see, my love,Look, as if through a Telescope, but lookAnd see with the heart. Blind yourself to theMyriad distant stars,And let your soul see..
|
|
Ode to the healing power of poetry.
|
|
Ages ago, I saw a burning bushon a mountain; I hearda voice loud, clear, and hard.I was there when, among the beasts,a child was born undefiled,innoce..
|
|
Blessed are the poor...
|
|
When the day is done, and
Eyelids fall like curtains
On an eventful play, and
The last lights feebly flicker
And glow like distant
Sta..
|
|
for jaded eyes sick of seeing blue
a strange, red sky burns with
the promise of something new
flaming tongues tickle and tease
till r..
|
|
his EYES are two FISTS
brandishing DAGGERS
the cold winter air
catches FIRE as he breathes
smoke and gallops like a
WILD mustang aroun..
|
|
Our silence drip-drops
And soaks the bed sheets.
How softly it does fall and die
Right where we made love,
Right here where we lie.
In..
|
|
|