When you realize
That every word
You write is
One word less
Than you can
Ever write again.
You must squeeze
Every last thought
Out of there
Before it is
Too late now.
Our desert (haiku)
I look through photos Our life through the four seasons Back through the old ones. Blossoming in spring With all the diverse flowers ...
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There is ink in my pen And I'm pretty sure If I put it to the page It would come out, Creating some sort of mark On the blank pages. Of ...
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The humble drops of water Fall from the furthest reach Onto modern art in the garden: Flushing the angles of the sculpture Of the gum wr...
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When I said I'm scared that was an understatement. When I'm too blind to see things when they happen And too used to second chance...