Poetry
Nightscape
Fog horns sound though air soaked in blackness. All evening long listening to hiss of trucks, cars. Shadows brush across walls as trees
Fog horns sound though air soaked in blackness. All evening long listening to hiss of trucks, cars. Shadows brush across walls as trees
Another night scratching my head as I reach for a pencil. Another night spent torturing words in the mind’s muddied trenches, proving that yes you
Like a geek, a fancy of being blacklisted as they create the fluky of the flight as they target silos, higher heaven of eaves how
He wants to embrace the night; The dark, mysterious but mesmerizing sight. The starry sky, Lonely moon, Stuck in his head As the lone
Buildings blacken like the sky, And hovels their roots beneath The earth, run like fingers to Ghana, Street skirted by masts, narrowed
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Until you let go of what hurts you,
screaming won’t ease the pain.
The day stars new all is peaceful at sun up a fresh strong breath of tree’s The Christmas tree is filled with a thousand memories
The Walls We Build: “There is loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of
I’m skilled at bottling up my feelings but I’ll burst if you shake me. one pull at a loose thread and I come apart at