Accepting the Upheaval
Future time sits in anticipation, hopes and wants the pillars of its destiny, yet the yearning can create cracks at
Read morePoetry is a genre of literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm.
Future time sits in anticipation, hopes and wants the pillars of its destiny, yet the yearning can create cracks at
Read moreBaby Boomer Profile … Born to Mr. and Mrs. John Q Baby Boomer Virgin on the cusp of tomorrow Mid
Read moreI’m Where? Is that the queue, the line that infers I am chosen, special, and all those waiting, so patient,
Read moreOverwhelmed by change, we seek security, a sense of familiarity and comfort to shoulder the weight of evolving circumstance, yet
Read moreUnforgettable the highs and lows, each one like an echo, a memory of extremes we cannot lose in time’s
Read moreI remember that overwhelming rush, when love first touched this heart, and the world just faded from sight, as loves
Read moreFine shards, like ethereal ropes from the heavens, spot the ground like golden confetti, and leaves in their green visage
Read moreCan it be the freedom of worry-less resolve, when faith supersedes our petty concerns: our human paranoia and penchant for
Read moreCan I be what I think I can be, and am I as I am, to see what truths grace
Read moreWorn the stones from nature’s wrath, winds so strong in sand storm moods and rains to carve their thoughts at
Read moreHow She Makes Me Feel … Like consuming whole stacks of Oreos Each leaning tower slathered from whole milk
Read moreIn the mist I see what lingers unobserved, as if hiding in plain sight, white and ethereal it assumes another
Read moreWhistling Wind … Sweet whistling, like the sound, when an organ plays, games with the whistling wind, on windy days.
Read moreNobody’s Home … Reaching out into depth less seas where waves invite and rebuke those of errant pleasures pleased beyond
Read moreThe waves crash relentlessly upon the shore, jagged rocky outcrops, barnacles and green hair tossed in white foamy forays, thundering,
Read moreThe hole I’m in I dug with every word I said, with every thought I shed, every action I took
Read moreThe visions passing, lifetimes flashing From the skies, through my eyes My very pores, like open doors Listening, to all
Read moreAntiquity dictates a repetitive rhyme, and often it is seen as worthy, but circumstances are never aligned, for they change
Read moreCrying in the Rain … On rain drenched streets where strikes of lightning come to play shadows wrestle in the
Read moreIn blackest storm of wrath and spite, crashing jagged lightning strikes, as clouds amass like walls of hate, to frighten
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