Poetry
Ravens
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
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
She walked down the hall with her head hung low, Her pace wasn’t fast, neither was it slow People whispered loudly as she walked by,
Poems of rebellion, fire and beauty Wild Embers by Nikita Gill is a firestorm of lovely prose, that at times, can be quietly powerful and
Your hero is my villain, It’s nothing personal; Wish you could see people can be Different things to other People— I didn’t mean to make
I have a lost lover, Who loved me with himself Now loves me with his illusionary presence I have a lost lover, Who stared at
They don’t know who I am, not like they used to think Before it all came apart Maybe I’ve changed Maybe I’ve sunk a
I travel the world in daydreams. I become someone else sometimes. I live to a ripe old age and then I become myself completely satisfied.
Crossing by a half baked poetry I found it on the pan over Half dried fired woods of words Smoky all around Suffocation of my
The barometer is dropping, skies filled with scudding clouds Which gather into towers, bottoms dark as funeral shrouds Winds, that once were calm, now cause
I write, More than I speak. I carry my words In feathers. They’re silver lined Like the moon. I touch them with a Light hand.
As I sit gazing at the infinite sea… I think about everything in front of me… Clenching my fists with mounds of sand… Thought
Sometimes I look at you, Not taking off that gaze, Upon you I place my sight. Just to think, How fortunate and blessed I
The divine is tangible the body a temple the legs spires the hands feathers the eyes stain -glassed hues Prayer As a shawl falls
The hearts of those shining bright Find peace and hope viewing the sunshine On the most graceful beast’s streaming hair Celebrating the beauty of the
I went to the waters, Salty myself, Saw a line, Between the seas and heavens, And thought to myself- Maybe, maybe That is where we
To trade these hands For a house in the forest, landed On a hill above any risk of flood, but near A flowing stream,
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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