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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2019-02-28 22:56:25

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    In that dream my eyes can be seen
    peeking through the dark as two
    grounded stars. They don’t seem

    to move except to disappear
    in blinking. They are fixed
    on the church of vultures that come

    to feed every night at the roadside.
    The bodies of birds are not stones,
    but sometimes they drop like them.

    Like when they gutter-dark from a fence
    rail to tidy refuse. And they bend
    their necks to form the shapes of boulders.

    In the end I always wake the same:
    to realize my eyes have made it, somehow,
    over the faint stretch of road. Where

    they have watched, unmoved,
    as those hungry boulders,
    those vultures, have spent the last

    few bites of my out-lying heart

    ...Created 2019-02-28 22:54:54

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2019-02-27 22:28:56

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    I guess I should say
    even the seeding can bury the bloom
    of morning. A handful
    of beet vertebrae and moon-slivers

    of carrot seed can luxturiate
    to shadow the ground. The miracle
    of begetting a leaf
    that can also leaf itself

    still pierces my understanding. See,
    once, I creased the soil
    and pitched a seed
    without knowing what it was.

    Then, watched it grow
    until it became
    the new face of the sun.

    ...Created 2019-02-27 22:28:23

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    I guess I should say even the seeding
    can have a dark side. A handful
    of beet vertebrae and moon-slivers

    of carrot seed can luxturiate and
    shadow the ground. The miracle of begetting
    a leaf that can also leaf itself

    pierces understanding. See, once,
    I creased the soil and pitched
    a seed without knowing what it was.

    Then, watched it grow until it became
    the new face of the sun.

    ...Created 2019-02-27 22:23:03

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    Even seeding grows dull. A handful of beet vertebrae and moon-slivers of carrot seed. The miracle of making something that can also make itself. See, once, I creased the soil. I dropped in a seed without knowing what it was, and watched it grow so tall it became the new face of the sun.

    ...Created 2019-02-27 22:06:22

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2019-02-27 17:44:19

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    It is all about perspective,
    I guess. The bird’s voice hits
    off the angles and soffits

    between these houses, and
    I can imagine him to be anywhere.
    Spring-bud knees straightening,

    offering every inch of song
    he has curled up in his lungs.
    The sun scoots behind the neighbor’s

    house like a child hiding
    from a stranger who has just entered
    his home. The last rays are still

    peeking over the roof
    like fingertips grounding the body,
    holding it from sinking too far.

    Dear bird, little invisible,
    voice that magnifies you, and
    denies smallness, please

    do not stop singing.

    ...Created 2019-02-27 17:44:09

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    It is all about perspective, I guess. The bird’s voice hits off the angles and soffits between these houses, I can imagine him to be anywhere. Spring-bud knees straightening to offer every inch of song he has curled up in his lungs. The sun scoots behind the neighbor’s house like a child hiding from a stranger who’s just entered the run. The last rays still peeking over the roof like fingertips grounding the body, holding it from sinking too far. Dear bird, little invisible, voice that magnifies you, and denies the smallness, please do not stop singing.

    ...Created 2019-02-27 17:40:09

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Humanity's Loss, Humanity's Gain | prt o written by MyPeriodical
    Of A Better Future written by MyPeriodical
    Untitled written by taintedsmiles
    The annointed one is persecuted. written by MyPeriodical
    A Dream Within a Dream (My favorite EAP poem) written by Debauchery
    Rose colored glasses written by taintedsmiles
    Layin Tracks in Here written by teika5
    Cansansio written by MyPeriodical
    Silly Rulers. written by MyPeriodical
    We are Loved written by teika5
    Somewhere It's Always Morning written by Soul-Hugger
    Happy New Oblivion written by Pietro
    Challenge - Msg to a Mountain Lynx written by Daniel Barlow
    Remnants written by Soul-Hugger
    Los Desechados written by MyPeriodical
    Comparisons written by MyPeriodical
    No es asi, sabes written by MyPeriodical
    Oblivion written by TheStillSilence
    Understanding the pain of growth written by MyPeriodical
    I am still sorry. written by MyPeriodical
    The Veil written by Swimming Bird
    Expectations written by taintedsmiles
    Remember written by MyPeriodical
    Their fine denial written by MyPeriodical
    What its like written by robbie
    I Just Want to Have Fun written by SavedDragon
    Generation Lost in Space written by teika5
    MY VERY OWN DEATH written by Ethan Brody
    undetermined written by MyPeriodical
    Release written by robbie

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    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
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