It’s so cold here without you,
No sun to warm my face
My heart is so heavy
It beats with unsyncappated pace.…
This wilderness through which I travel
Is desolate, dark and bare
I search for a glimmer of h
Sniffles and sobs, tears running down her cheeks, the little girl ran to her Daddy.
“Daddy, Daddy”, she cried, I broke my dolly’s head off. Can you fix it?…
Her Daddy hugged her, took the doll and star
A cauldron of emotions bubbling and brewing inside
Some make us proud, some we want to hide.
Some emotions run parallel, never to intersect
Some separated by a very thin line, others by chasms wide.
So don’t try to pull me out now,
This well I’m in seems safe somehow.
This murky clay keeps me grounded.
This darkness a warm blanket surrounds me.
I like to take hold of it, grab it by the neck and put my teeth into it, just to be sure it doesn’t get away on me.
I try to see how far I’ve come, rather than how far I have to go.
I picture her presenting
herself to St. Peter one day
Overfilled with our razored lives.
I will forgive you.
I will heal you.
Rich as Croesus, fine, we
greedy as Mammon, gouge your eyes
and the sea wasn’t blue-
green like in the
photos, it was a maroon color. It was the red
tide, the lifeguard
I grip your hand as you step towards the door. In the way you hold your spine so straight, a shuddering quiver explicates the taught muscles beneath your skin. Your eyes are desperate.
most people won’t touch
organs and entrails – unfairly
called the offal, more rightly labeled variety
Hardly anyone attended Pastor Gage’s funeral
today. His brother didn’t
Billie was born in Scotland in 1918 and lost his hearing and his sight at a very young age. He travelled to Thailand and Japan and touched the hearts of many people. He always won at Scrabble.
anything disturb a
single item you change
the scene forever
absconded, fearing being
hurt by us the next time things did
not go quite as hoped.
“I screamed like a banshee when I came.
“You didn’t wake up.”
She takes another drag and holds out the cigarette.
I reach and take and breathe it in and I am not here I am not.
“Passion in art writing and photography is the artist personality”
Art speaks truthfulness.
Hence! It is important
As the clothes you wear,
On the outside of your body,
The cloth that cover you and mo…
lights are out
of reach of even