Explore all poems
She’s in love with sunsets
And all beautiful endings
Nature is in love with her, too
Every evening these two lovers
Stare and admire each other
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,...
Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, “You make such a noise falling! You scatter all my winter dreams.”
Said the leaf indignant, “Low-born and low-dwelling! Songless, peevish thing! You live not in the upper air and you cannot...
I love red,
not in the way most do,
with roses or sunsets,
but in the way it bleeds—
bleeds from my soul.
I wear it on my skin
like a silent scream,
a language only I understand,
when the world becomes too...
Death is quiet,
not an edit,
not a deletion but a slight pause.
What's gone becomes a song
that is sung
by what is left.
I end this year the way I lived it—moving.
Scarred knuckles, quiet wins, loud lessons.
I learned that silence can teach,
that roads don’t apologize for being long,
and that becoming costs more than dreaming.
Some days bent...
It so happens he told me
When a great fire ravages a land
Beneath the thick layers of ash
Some embers fester and burn
And with a kind wind -
A fire may yet arise
She said she loved him
Just here for the drama
He hurriedly replied
No drama without love, said she
Have no time for one, said he
Like you and I, said she
The two together twine
Or like old age and wine
Do love and...
Where i would have fallen,
Now I only stumble
To the brother I would have struck
I suffice with an insult
I am yet to turn the other cheek
Or take a brother the extra mile
It may only have been yesterday
When I was...
Ruby;
Like a sweet childhood song
I know you so well
But I still
Can’t get enough
Ruby,
Like the deep blue sea
I’ve seen you a thousand times
But you’re still
My favorite sight
Ruby,
Like the...
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...
What days are these?
Where the gods walk amongst us
Is it a shame to them
Or vain glory to us
When they muddle themselves
The trivialities of mere mortals!