Some folks will tell you
about the beauty of Eagles soaring,
great owls of learning,
of proud-chested hawks,
or doves with feathers as soft as velvet
and voices soft as silk
Some folks will tell you
about the beauty of Eagles soaring,
great owls of learning,
of proud-chested hawks,
or doves with feathers as soft as velvet
and voices soft as silk
I have no views on politics
To me
They’re all the same
Faceless morons
Desperate
To board the
Ego Train
Stroke me
Stroke me
Stroke me
Can you feel my power?
make me into an image
which flies into oblivion, embraces
bliss, turns into a burning light
which burns out
when all things are seen...
do not, have
pity on me Lord,
I look from the outside
Through careless windows
Left uncurtained
And note that life goes on.
A different kind of life
Behind each window.
A new created world
Behind each clear pane.
First thing in the morning,
I check my facebook, e-mail
and a couple literary sites
if I've written something that "speaks to me" :
occasionally, I wake every hour
O Pandora, we have lost,
There can be no golden chest,
The immortals don’t know best
And we know less than them at most.
And we will never be remembered,
We will never be forgotten
Third perspective on the same story - only really makes sense if you've read the first two takes...
IPOW try to guess who, before you look at the link...
a motley collection of 10 random memories written in different styles.
I'd like to write about happy things
like Southern Oregon hills rolling and green,
like bizarre Thai instruments that with wondrous melody sing,
or peaceful, pretty hippie girls
In the beginning,
there was a world without words
just tigers and birds
monkeys and bison herds
Then came the barbarians
worshipping a thousand exclusive Gods
in a thousand different ways,