Voices In the Wind Standing on the barren mountaintop the wind is like a whip. Beneath me the turkey vultures soar by me once again. Why do I feel I’m on the edge barely clinging by my fingertips? Listening to the Voices In the Wind. Oh, the contradictory clauses in the things we do and say. I really think I’d fit in here, if I could only find my place. While all the time we’re packing bags to go and search for better things. ...
gouge me with a turret and clean out my pores, scatter my bones so that vultures can sing i'd like to pretend that i am still clean but the mirror of hades is grinning at me
***this still awaits revision and is not the finished version*** i have been thirsty- i do not mean like one in the desert; that i could stand. i have craved water with it all around holding my cup out under rivers tumbling cascading heavily threatening to drown but my cup remains empty i cannot be cleansed and the guilt remains tattooed on my skin ...
Self Portrait II A dash of vibrant color, or some inner spark Flows to the canvas from my broken heart. Should I follow up my varicolored plastic dreams— Knowing some more drab, more realistic, might never be seen? What is the exact hue of the legacy That I will leave on this canvas—left behind me? Borrowed crimson emotions, aquamarine tears, A bit of deep jet shadow here and there— Golden glow of hope, cornflower blue ...
i would have loved to have brushed your hair and kissed your cheeks you were perfect, precious if i hadn't cried i wouldn't have seen i think you would have blinded me when you came to me i miss you my love, my little girl. you should have been born today it kills me to live without you i wish i could have seen you in the dressing room told you how beautiful ...
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