They moved to a home
in the shadow of the mountains—
true to form for the mountain of a
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1 min
They moved to a home
in the shadow of the mountains—
true to form for the mountain of a
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The only reason I can see
To down the spoon of sweet honey
Is to calm the ache of a sore
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the love poems roll out of this machine
endless,
and full offense--
hackneyed.
you
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With my art tools
I lay my head upon the short bright-green grass
looking up to the night sky
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Red, orange, and blue.
Those were the colors
I saw the world in.
Red for the ange
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Mankind is a hideous, throbbing mass
Its ravenous sickly heart throbbing
Its veins probing
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With these wings I’ll remember
how the cosmos:
the sun
the moon
and the stars held
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Faces flash before me
and are swept away as easily
As leaves burning in bright hues
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“Hello!”
(“Hello”)
he hates you.
“Excuse me,”
(“No worries!”)
she
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What it Means to be Different-
You Must Suffer to Truly Live
-
Poems about the Transgende
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Every day I walked the Lade Braes path to school. The tall oaks lining the path sheltered me from ... [+]
I’ll never sing at Carnegie—
My voice is quiet and small.
But there was one performance
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