My guitar weeps The heaviness Of my lonely Heart….
The heart is wounded It bleeds The blood clots Into touching Words… A song is born…. My guitar weeps!!!
From the fathoms Of my heart A mute tune is Hummed… The octave music of love
My Guitar weeps!!
In the distant silence of the night I hear the soft sadness In your sweet voice Longing to be in my arms
Time meanders into the silence As My Guitar weeps!!
In the womb of the night The fetus of our love Seeks an expression … ..in the strumming of the guitar!!! …a moon drop falls …a night jaw whistles …a rainbow dream Tries to bridge the distant love In my quest to be with my love ….My Guitar strums…. My Guitar weeps The silent song of love !!!
Unthinkable. Lithograph of a malaise. I cannot talk. Will you abandon the thought and care about the drowning dawn? The bandaged ego of the book threatens the reader. Come and solve the puzzle of poetry. Everything was quiet except the
Within the imagination I am content to live This is my stay I see how plenty, how ever-expanding it is The ‘All’ a rich array Of ever-rotating colors with which to paint And never fade away This is my stay
I mawkishly effeminate sentiment, memories plucked from wood and field merged in a sentiment of unutterable sadness and compassion microscopic minuteness of eye, misgivings of grave kinds mockery crept into your tone, molded by the austere hand of adversity moments