Explore all poems

As love falls down from the sky,
It lands on the wings of a butterfly.
The butterfly sings it's songs and rhymes,
And flies through the air, No concept of time.
It is the messenger of patience and change,
From flower to flower,...

He spits on the face of the gods;
And still they sing his songs
Our stories; tears and hurt,
Are fodder for his craft.
What we whisper in shame,
He sings his way to fame.
Many men are born,
But forgotten once...

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound...

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our...
        

Free as a bird, no chains, no ties,
Drifting through endless, open skies.
No map to follow, no path too steep,
Just the wind’s whisper and skies so deep.

No weight to carry, no clock to chase,
Just open air and boundless...

O build on the Rock, forever sure
The firm and the true foundation;
Its hope is the hope which shall
endure, the hope of our salvation.

'I've a pain in my head'
Said the suffering Beckford;
To her Doctor so dread.
'Oh! what shall I take for't?'

Said this Doctor so dread
Whose name it was Newnham.
'For this pain in your head
Ah! What can you do...

If you get to know me,
I'm afraid
you might not love me—
or even like me.

You would see what
scares me most,
maybe even use it against me

You would realize
I'm only fine on the surface—
that deep down, I...

Friday nights –
The mad, bad streets,
Pacing, thinking, wishing, seeing
Cold nights, tipsy, hot blood –
Deep dives and long drives,
Strange, loud, high neighbors.
It ends on a Saturday morning
Sleepy, Saturday...

Once there was a tree....
and she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come
and he would gather her leaves
and make them into crowns
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her trunk
and swing from her...

“The problem is",
She once told me,
“There is no passion without possession,
We can’t love people,
The way we love the stars!”

Only blood could wash away sin,
And so we put on altars, the blood of beasts.
Only blood could wash away sin,
And yet this blood was never fit.
Only blood could wash away sin,
And so He gave us His only kin.
Only His blood...