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.
The melody of the poet for the soul to please, with its chords of truth in spoken breeze. There can be no freedom which is attached by the ego’s ear, no serenade’s art and temporary clear. One must smite the
A silence on the night. The day fluttered quietly in whisper soft resonance, So many colours slowly dying Like confetti in the rain, And echoes touched each other, a reunion of themselves, As though they were astounded At their resonating
You were starving the words to commit the waves of hunger. What I wanted was a patch of shade under an olive grove. No intrusion. It was a miscarriage of justice. We were searching the – missing links between the
The path disappears under the foot. Gently I lay down the book and start reading the blank page. Stainless thoughts.I strip to root. A stunning revelation about a tinned dialogue. Blue hydrangeas were telling something. It was time to become
Lead me into, the green darkness, under the nude flames. It was hurting; the golden sun. Out of full moon, werewolves would come out chasing the flesh, the long limbs of silence, in asci of fluids, stopped in tracks. No