My muse is like an excitable dog. It catches sight of totally random things and starts yapping and running around and wagging its tail and WILL NOT STOP until I write a poem about it.My poetry is sometimes based on personal experience and sometimes on other things. Aside from that, I enjoy video games (My favourite game series is Mass Effect) and the popular television show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
It is autumn grapes are bleeding. The orange color seeps into your eyes. Will you shut the green lids? You, start reading backward. Atavistic instinct to dig up the severed hands? Your house, died in the flower bed. Seeds were
It was inheritance of age before the mirrors for the language of windows. The high rise buildings always cast a pall of gloom.earth seems to slide and I cannot reach the sky. I want to say what I did not
Same dream, different night a sense of De Ja Vu takes me back to another life… my heart beats fast like angel wings, as you come in out of the shadows I begin to remember everything… Irish green eyes radiating
Why deceptive retrieve in a wheelchair for the fallen? Was it not a sheer wrong message of a space anxiety? The aboriginal name was dead in a traffic. What a choice to breathe its last in a city of buried
I forgot, was it me in a body pile draped in dust, still hot, bruised, burnt, a mad megalomaniac starting a civil war, creating suicide bombers, young virgins inhaling death? This journey under the guns, displacing hapless thousands, will reach