Her skin is on the olive tree grazed and taken she sits young thighs pressed and marked by blood left there and still she pretends to play a pink note peeling it was only yesterday fresh off the press little peach Time has built an ark to house the template and fingers print and ache though bonesContinue reading “The Olive Tree”
All That Glitters Is Not Gold
it is all just bullshit anyway.....
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.
Scripting the desires that are soul deep
material
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Life, death, and everything in between
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Pain goes in, love comes out.
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
