MARK JOHN JUNOR : Writing

the rain is thick

the rain is thick

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


the rain is thickand bright in the minds eyecaptures the wandering and turns skyward all thought of walkingseek shelter under treebut its stirs the le..
sweat and sunscreen

sweat and sunscreen

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


sweat and sunscreeni love that sounda wind walks by and stirs the treesthat rushing breathing soundthe leaves make and the branches are swayed in the ..
nights true name

nights true name

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


the day moves around mecoming to its closeanticipation of night on the tip of tongueits dark mystery its deep magics you know nights true namespeak it..
brown turtle dove

brown turtle dove

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


i walked in the wildernessi walked alonethere were signs and portentsbut they were shallow imperfections on reality's pagethey were ink stains afterth..
driftwood kingdoms

driftwood kingdoms

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


in the evening tidea remark of the world washed ashore written with the driftwood's obscure tongueits twisted words spun round itselfpolished and worn..
spilled wine

spilled wine

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


the wine had been spilledits red stained the floorboardsits tattered remains hung on the aira stale scent of wasted winesand the echoes of a lovers sp..
bent neck two handed

bent neck two handed

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


beer belly muscleher voice with sharp tone is the one thing that can drawme back from slumbershe has seen far too muchbut her shy glancing is a pictur..
and snow will fall warm

and snow will fall warm

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


if she submits just soif she contorts to the worlds twisted visionher breathing becomes quickand her hands silhouettes mimicry of ritualistic loveif s..
like moonlight breathing

like moonlight breathing

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


her pale skin is moonlight breathing like she has an essence of celestial beauty in the palm of her hand andwithout her the sun will never risewithout..
moment

moment

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


this moment her eyes lay on me like two whispers of longing and her touch, light and tentative speaks to me of her fear i would tumble the walls of t..