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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...

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint...

I stand still, staring at the sky,
Clouds rolling by, dark and light.
They’re quiet, but I can feel their weight,
Worries pressing, as if they hesitate.

They hold it in, we barely notice,
Until they break and rain pours on...

Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And...

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...

On my travels up above,
I picked up a star,
Wrestled it from its place,
And dragged it down below.
It's one thing to watch stars above,
It's another to hold them in hand.
For they burn like Sulphur;
And are big like...

Where whispers hum in soft delight,
Fine nights bloom, a tranquil sight,
Finding might in fleeting time,
A melody spun from careless chimes.

Coins of thought, like stars, align,
Casting dreams in a silver shine.
In every...

Might is blatant in flight
Guile as an eagle we flow
Gracefully we glide and go
But to grow we must settle
Like an eagle’s nest on a rocky perch
Fly, fly we may,
But by dusk we perch
To rest our wings!

Go, with faith to conquer trials that appear;
Know that Christ your Savior with His help is
near.
Never give up the battle, dark though it may be;
For your Lord has promised you the victory.

Hers was usual, his, an art
Ever finding solace in a single word
Little he said, the world he meant
Learning and yearning to be heard
Only if she knew, to hear love in hello!

I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.

The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame...

The humble carpet brush 
sweeps away
cigarette ash, 
    moth scales, 
    dried tears,
and angel dust.