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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    garden-grown watermelon grows in the rows of your mind I suppose eat me down to the rind and spit matte black seeds into the rotting soil of your attic vine dripping juice has no weight in the origami napkins disintegrating into pretty emptiness, in your soft, shredding grasp you a...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The moaning lamb perverts this unrelenting midnight He begs of clemency, and repose, I am not so wanting; I piece my soul into the black like some mute owl resting in the shadows of man. The sidling of dawn longs for me Its colors drip into my world, they bleed into me raw, It fills me whole...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I looked into the threads of your soul I looked and saw the tendrils Pulling stretching feeling along and they’re blind but what are eyes to the senseless? O, God! I looked into the threads of your soul and saw myself there ensnared Pulling writhing biting aching oh it feels not! Calling w...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    humming, the world is. the sweep of eyelashes of billions of people blinking billions of times all at once it’s enough to wonder why we are not screaming horrifying agony at all this noise noise noise...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    there's a man underneath and he rolls into the tips of your toes and pushes off the stage black and bounces, boundless into a whirling crashing spin what was once warmth and bright, bright, and brighter still it's bright and it blocks out everything whooshes on as a colorful sting...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    By all, of them are lost in this defining frost By all, array, the slave lay down to take the grave A sense, to keep, the sleep changes hearts to masonry weep While each day, by bed, the prey is lost by concrete cave Considers, of homes, in blizzard a lost sheep to hear the quiver And bree...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Take it in, craftsman Look at what you've created Such a masterpiece in a simple structure Your picket fence is beautifully made Clearly immaculate, it keeps the good things in So shiny, bright and painted a stunning white It's a reminder of Heaven viewed from the outside How resou...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Breathing in addiction Nobody can reach it, in this place, I'm found where echoes are more common than the original sound this is destination. When breaths are released, they're gone for good Eyes won't be still And escape exists on a different plane, this is destination. Tired of p...
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