Category: Poetry

To be beautiful. Delicate. Decorative. Never anything less. Appearance is value and value is existence. Silence and smiles never quite reach the eyes that shine so polished it exposes the eyes of the beholder who holds something so precious so fragile it must be hidden from reckless grasps. To sit and look pretty no smudges

I watched your body slowly putrefy as mutated B-cells Dispersed their alien poison into your pristine ecosystem Steeped in stress, a life out of your control. You ignored the initial warnings Denied the changing climate within The fire on your skin The flood across your landscape. The inescapable truth made you recognize A need to

Here is a space Tucked in the trees Where water flows freely and pure Children dance to the sounds of the wind Truth follows us The teachings of those who came before Are passed down Over and over Colours change as years pass Love flourishes and thrives Sunlight dances on the water Twisting and twirling

everyone you meet is a reflection of you. and just like everyone, you are deserving of extraordinary love. you are light, sunshine in your veins.you are a child of the universe. you are allowed to take up space. after all, you are stardust.you exist, and that is enough. you are worthy, an exceptional creature. like a magnolia tree, you too shall

As I sit on my chair at the desk near the doorThe curtains drawn completelyI hear a voice below the nightIt’s speaking to me. Nature’s greatest song is crickets’Haunting, taunting cryThe bass of a neon highwayA songbird in the sky. Coyotes or frat boys howl at the moonIncredibly out of tuneBeethoven’s Symphony No. 7Plays in

In the forest a bird rises from anold and lengthy tree.As it beats its feathers it looksout from there to see The mountainside, so wild and greenthe bird begins to sound.Its voice is a crescendoThat is heard from all around. From its perch the bird can see aLabyrinth, frigid dark.This frosted crypt with cobalt veinsLeft

in the wake of your leaving the sun continues to riseplayfully peering out between peakspromising the return of soft spring wind.it warms my bonesbathes my skin in sticky sweet goldchases away the winter shadowsthe chill you left behind. in the wake of your leavingmy heart beats againunfrozen after monthsof tumultuous snow.it nourishes my rootsbrings colour

motherpleasei have prayed and prayed and prayedfor solace of the softest kind.of honey-sweet retribution.i ampressed,palms downto blue-cold tile.a statuesque relicof pity-poor faith.the stars have no answers.unwavering,blinking down with soft set eyes.there is no salvation herefor sin wrought skin.when god does not answerthe devil finds me in the depths of the nightlays my head in his

Vanity is veal to voracity,Valiance invites violence. Vehement cheers for victors of war,Visualized as virtuous models.Very little did virtuosos voice forVilified foreign men, trapped in a bottle. Vast disfiguring of varied peoples,Valued only for velvet and land.Values of theirs “vile” and illegal,Vassals for veterans and viscounts they must stand. Veni, vidi, vici a man once

the moss is cool against my fingersmy back dampthe sky has lost its blue at my feet, the remnants of decadesrusted cans, a rotten shoei make a bed of copper leavesand let the treeswash my hair with their dew an unseen squirrel chitterson a far away branchbut i don’t want toleave too soon i feel