A babbling brook careening down every
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Am I more than a deck of plastic cards? What evidence that I exist is there? A mosaic of vague, digital shards How many losses can anyone bear?
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
A calendar, twelve pages long; a square reminder of yesteryear. Neither script nor song; it's a sketch on a thin veneer.
By Tim Grace2 years ago in Poets
Everyone thinks you’re some kind of hustler They think you want the entire smorgasbord But they don’t realize You’re not an easy customer
Tick tock, tick tock The hands of the clock Never slowing, never stopping Time keeps moving, never dropping - From the moment we are born
By Melania J.L.2 years ago in Poets
You'd better contemplate your journey now. Talk as you would walk with a natural gait. Learn to wait, stand your ground, take a bow.
We really must stop being so afraid Cowardice creates deep paralysis; Strong and decisive moves must now be made No time remains for slow analysis
Time is a passage, a tunnel, that seeds our maturation. Time is a direction, a funnel, that leads our transformation. .
One of life’s little lessons Is there’s little difference between love and obsession So just embrace it all And fall into the things that call your heart
In the twilight, the light fades, and the sun sets in an embrace with the sea. The sky is dyed with delicate and bright colors, creating a heavenly postcard full of grace.
By Hendrik SancheZ2 years ago in Poets
Nothing is more salutary than this: The aid received from a complete stranger Disease, decay and death stalk every bliss
With its ten gangly legs and five long feet, it hobbles the cobbles - a diddle-dee-dum; pedals the rhythm of a Roman street,
