of a son
My 2nd Cleave poem she loves his gruff voice, his calling card that he leaves his hot temper by his shoes neatly by the door, now ajar, open to a world well known to her that could offer support whenever his arm rises up into the air should she need to make his tyranny known… Continue reading Barefoot, or: Naked Truth
A hay(na)ku pistols smoking; lying in dawn puddles
A musette Her toes pushing away her clothes Needed that fix; please! she pleaded Muses benumbed by wine bruises
So many people are so certain I have nothing of meaningful substance to add to the conversation about the current flareup in the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. What astounds me is that so many people think that they do. So many are so sure of themselves. That's the meat of this particular blog post so please feel… Continue reading We live together
A gogyohka hurting others putting morality aside just for a moment is making nothing better (please) stop attacking hope
A 'Magnetic Poem' tanka Wanna try? Click here. why elaborate? frantic whispers screaming stop we like want need our picture of a peachy life as he beats her bloody raw Notes This poem was inspired by The Paltry Sum's blog post: 'Marriage is Murder';For this poem, I decided to make use of the 'Original Set'… Continue reading Frantic whispers screaming stop, or: …
The skeptic's kaddish 
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