Julius Whitfield : Writing

The Journey Part One of Three

The Journey Part One of Three

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


The howling of the gust Exhaustionfrom this stranglehold Still carrying of the gale Abuses the cosset Shadowed sight, guide thy legs. Wondering..
The Gamble

The Gamble

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


Discussion wanders through the limited minds of men. Feasting on the plate of seduction and sucking at the dry bones of corruption To have and to h..
Time

Time

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


Time is the flesh and blood of death. We've decided that Thanatos wields a scythe when he might just as well wield an hour glass. Death whispers e..
Something Long Awaited

Something Long Awaited

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


i'll swallow this pastiche like a wad of gum letting it clog within the chords feeling its impediment along the walls tying the arms it's bound my ..
Trip of The Guiltfed Souls

Trip of The Guiltfed Souls

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


Chase this guilt with fear of never wanting to reflect it through somber eyes. It left you a black soul, curled up and whistling itself to sleep. Runn..
The Apparent Struggle

The Apparent Struggle

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


Sweet mother of pearl etches an extended smile on the face of the victim Did this make any sense? Was the world bred to produce such idiocies? Did ..
The Gordian Knot-Part One:: The Set

The Gordian Knot-Part One:: The Set

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


the gathering selfish clones lined up by sectors insolitaire. dominoed up and ready to be stacked down in means of decision deciding their own. cl..
Valtiel

Valtiel

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


I am adrift along the haze of such a circumstance; collected and doubled over in fly paper, distant from the remnants. Dick hard, pointing like an acc..
Cadaceus

Cadaceus

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


You can only drown alone in this ocean of yours, but you've seemed to drag others down with youasasuicide pact. Hands joined together with intoxicatin..
Unappealing Traits

Unappealing Traits

A Poem by Julius Whitfield


a black mass of ignorance has loomed over me like a death shower armed with the self-consummation of your ambiguity, you shove your taste of apathy a..


Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5