Rhymes, riddles, and occasionally, she giggles.
Every-writer, it's all in me... DO LOOK DOWN!
“So, what's your name?” “Jana.” “Jama?” Judd thought she said, meaning he must have not been listening earlier. Jana’s brother, Radamuz, walked into the living room now. “That's what I call her, Jam. Because of her accent and all.”
By Ángel Sierra3 years ago in Fiction
Drowned in surroundings Take my life to the water Breathe out, breathe under.
By Ángel Sierra3 years ago in Poets
Last Christmas I was There, not here; Black Christmas, have A blue Christmas tree.
Let me just start with I drew for me: blue body That I must part with.
Where, along the lines, You're disguised behind blue eyes, Though through them, they're brown.
If you're not dying Then you're not alive just yet As the sea's blue-green.
This is a blue room Meant for two—too, meant for ruse— Velvet curtains thick.
Not a cloud in sight The Institution is near— Hear Mr. Blue Sky.
So I was born sick— Am I part of the disease? I'm blue—doubt I die.
Blue haiku for girls: Ghosts of cruel winter a past, Now we wear pink hats.
