Pointing fingers of blame
Screaming, hollering, cursing your name
But love hasn’t died, it has changed
It has evolved into smoke and rain
Before I hate you, before it gets strange
Words of power up again
No words of rage
No, “Please don’t go”
Just anguished tears staged
A separation shallow
There’s a stirring of the cauldron
There’s a turning of the wheel
Phoenix eternally called upon
their secrets to reveal
Humming power from ancient lore
Ascend again, wings born to soar
Thrust of hip, rise of breast
Come my power at my behest
The clock has passed the witching hour
The stars shoot through the night
Return to me my birthright power
My eyes be granted truth in sight
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
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
Mare Martell 