Written in 1984, this is another expression of my grief of losing my grandmother.
Loss.
A missing piece
of the puzzle.
A knot
in the throat.
A Demon
in the gut.
An unfulfilled need.
A missing.
A not there.
A silent scream.
Anger.
Grief.
Deprivement.
A barrier to cross
some day
Yet crossed by another
today.
This morning I was writing a review of “The Offspring,” an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, for SyFyPortal.com, which I regularly contribute to. In this episode Data creates a “child” who surpasses him in the ability to experience emotions and dies as a result. I cried when I first saw that episode, and…
This poem was an experiment … pushing my comfort level with expressing sexual desire. It was written February 20, 1991. Let my lips enfold you like petals about the stamen Let my hand caress you like the ocean caresses the shore Let my eye behold you more beautiful than a Rembrandt Your touch is like…
On June 6, 1981, my diary entry consisted of nothing but poetry. Here is a series i did about color. Yellow Yellow is bright and cheery It never seems dreary Yellow is the sun Yellow is the morning Yellow wakes me up to a new day And by the way Yellow is adoring Red Red…
This poem was written in 1983, inspired by my senior ring, which had a blue spinal stone because my favorite color is blue. It was published in the Spring 1984 issue of Metanoia, the Montgomery High School creative writing magazine. Blue Spinal, Spiral me down, down to the depths of your ocean. I see everything…
Fly toward the light on wings of hope and despair your strength takes you there To enter the January 2008 Art Inspired Contest, just post your entry in a comment. Originally posted on 52 Haiku
Written in 1983. I see an image made of dust. This is something I cannot trust. But what of broadswords that are thrust? Soon their valor turns to rust.