The Dual faces of love

  surrounded in a cloud of light bluesleeping with warming visions of youtrailing through the vast desert for dayslicking yearning lips, as I am thinking of waysof indulging all your deepest desires, guarding my pacewhile gently caressing every square inch of your beautiful face The Dual Faces of Love seeking you among the red dunespromises […]

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Abused child

do not presume to know memy face a frowning mooncrevices of sadness besmeara hoary soul who wonders here wounds scab, heal and gazeas an eyeless void, she paintsno peak can lug the weightof a child begotten such a fate

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Life and Death

weeping crowmoon hangs lowwords slash in single fileblood plunges on Italian tilean infant takes four steps to momdad is raking leaves on browning lawnred-headed nurse prays for the dead this dawn   I am dedicating this poem to nurses, doctors, and anyone working in any capacity within the healthcare industry. A special thanks to our […]

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The cliffs of moher

leaves of many colors mingle to dispersea steaming bowl of porridge to feed the craving earthrain turns directions, as limestone clenches sea flowersour love flying with the peregrine falcons by the cliffs of moherusing night writing, molds of movement, on the blanket we once did share

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compulsive

counting, countingdoing daily safety checksexhaustion visiting eyes of seven God ignoring pleas to go to heaven tiptoeing, tiptoeingever aware of sleeping beastglass floors cracking under toeswhile nervous fingers are picking nose

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Butterflies Bloom

tonight I whisperto the scarthat lolls uponmy shoulderyou are but amere fragmentof my flesh covering youwith star dustyour powerseveredonly an artlessreminder oferas past petals weavelove on frayedtraces of griefhummingbirdskiss my templeslove emergesa butterfly she flies awaydistance windssing her nameoh creatureof peacecome nowlet me love you

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A Life of Jazz and Love

do you remember biting my bottom lipwe consumed one another bit by bit you asked me if I loved you just a little rubbing my smell on your hat, I played you like a fiddle lifting me in the air with your armsI drank a bottle full of your charms I look in the mirror at […]

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Sunday’s Hay Field

  sadness is a raw wound wrapped in bandagesliving in the thought of a picnic without dancing antsa family carrying a basket with lost Sundays and sandwiches listening to the radio, pretending to dancebitter the old man who can no longer stand to eat corntoothless, he remembers the river swallowing a closing glance his son, […]

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Josie Was

Josie was a button without a piece of threada child that lost the happy and ended up with dread a dancer with no lessons, shoes, or hopeespecially after seeing dad tie her mom up with rope a sun without the color yellow or a single raya girl that got mad at God because he made […]

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