I confess the sins of my father’s life
as it applies to me
I am salty as a pillared Lot’s wife
lost in the desert sea
Tears I weep bear witness brazenly rife
Innocence amputee
Rending the branch with my family tree’s knife
Idiosyncrasy
I confess the sins of my father’s life
as it applies to me
I am salty as a pillared Lot’s wife
lost in the desert sea
Tears I weep bear witness brazenly rife
Innocence amputee
Rending the branch with my family tree’s knife
Idiosyncrasy
As I lay me down to sleep
I know that you will always keep
the promises we made my friend
even when the night never ends
We will never be apart
for I will always carry you in my heart
You were there for me
I was there for you
When we shared everything
We still stayed true
If you took away
every childhood day
I would still choose you
I still carry you in my heart
Brightly colored consumers dazzled the streets as glittery sprinkles
Music sporadically puncuates the roast scented air
Generators squall screams of power to the food trucks serving delectables.
Children, dogs, puppies, and elderly get dragged haphazardly
threading through the tapestry of flamboyant humanity.
Laughter, shouts paging the lost, the haggling and dickering,
Hands of artisans become hands of merchants, hawking wares
I wander through the murky shades of auras blended into one
First I head down one side, recognizing repeat offenders,
enthusiastically exploring the oddities made from new and/or antiquities
Rainbows spin in place then revolve in a resolving pattern
like a quilt come to life, undulating like lovers beneath the blues.
An Independent Nondiscriminatory Platform With No Religious, Political, Financial, or Social Affiliations - FOUNDED 2014
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Hosanna High Community Burial Project
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
...just a voice from the eastern Himalayan summits...
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
Life as an American poet of excellence
Musings and books from a grunty overthinker
Love Letters to the Tar Pit
Making Space for Dreams
binge thinking and other things in life