“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label encore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label encore. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Reception
The ocean rose
the sky fell
the rain beat the drums,
the fire spread,
the earth shook,
the sun set,
the moon was full,
the water ran,
the sound grew,
the people pled,
the stars said,
the cycle ends,
the wind screams,
the thunder claps
eager for more
Encore, Encore
the world wondered
if the message sent
or had been red...
Painting by JoaquĆn Clausell [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Half-dozen Mud cakes
Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
I have served between eight and twenty-five thousand meals for my family, I make coffee for them more than once per day, equatin...
-
Lies About Love by D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) We are all liars, because the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, wherea...