He shows up every third blue moon. Howling wolf cries under melancholic moonbeams, calling for my embrace before he gets swallowed back into the void of my hazy lunar dream. Stalking black panther pursues him in the black night, in hopes I don't wake soon. We're safe here. Make the move before my rogue lips... Continue Reading →
Bloom by Beau Taplin 2018. 80 pages Genre: Poetry Final Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars Summary: A stunning collection of 140 short poems about growth and renewal from popular Australian poet Beau Taplin. Beautifully designed with several pieces to a page, Bloom offers a unique twist on age-old topics: love, grief, and learning from... Continue Reading →
When I explained to him that the ones I loved were better off without me and he tried to argue back, I used you as an example; and he was left speechless.
The most meaningful words a person could ever say? “I saw this and thought of you.” It means that you crossed someone’s mind And made them feel something, without any personal prompting. Maybe it’s a good Thought. Maybe it’s a bad thought. But what does duality matter when either way, Someone verified that in this... Continue Reading →
The heart is a fickle creature It must never be confined to a single chamber. But rather allowed to roam freely, embracing each passion that calls out to it.
There is no melody so beautiful as the love song of a gentle breeze. Its whistle through the trees whisper lyrics of undying love as it caresses the leaves.
Oh, brother in my dreams! Why do you haunt me? Oh, brother of mine! Why does your pain hurt me so? Oh, brother! My brother! Why did your river run dry? My tears are too many, yet they cannot refill your river's flow! Oh, brother! Dearest brother! Brother of mine!
It is hopeless to be a romantic when one is not worth so much hype. That walk on the beach while the breeze whistles songs in the joy of the union And the waves reach out to shake hands in agreement; that is not What I am worth and that is not what I shall... Continue Reading →
Such little inspiration to write anything with feeling these days. Nothing left to say, it seems. Perhaps someone might be so kind as to burn me, or draw a bit of my blood with your weapon of choice, so that I might write another lyric or two.