fading
purple flowers
lie softly
plush
stitching
old
old
knees
and
infant fingers
s t r e t c h i n g
in jagged space
to smooth
incongruous
cheeks
like
paper
drawn with lines
and
finely
etched madness
in
eyes too full
of
sunlight dreaming
Onward LOVE!
You passion
of storm
of seed
of sweet tremendous swell
of breast pressed fire chest!
You hot tornado
slung with heaven,
a bulging tempest of purple magnanimous explosion and thickly painted thrust!
OH LOVE,
making,
harnessing,
keening,
soul spoken,
twisting,
singing
and
weaving,
electricity VICTORIOUS!
Treat yourself to some spoken word> We Are Not Afraid by Thomas Keily
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything
Poetry
musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry
In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.
Let me inspire the possibility of what could be
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Sometimes serious, often humorous personal musings on life, death, and everything in between from someone once chased by a killer Canadian goose.
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Hoping to inspire the world one word at a time.
Sharing my poetry to help end the stigma about mental health
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
He started Writing, The paper started speaking...
