Starshine

The daily harvest of those bad days. Selected and pulled clean from my skin. Reaching up, a mason jar removed from it’s keep. Hard enough to reach, but simple to ...

Night calls the living thoughts Day remembers them with fuzzy detail. Connected paths mix with within Falling situations make their place. The thought The mood The passing Become a single ...

Thanks. Something else to learn.

Think of driving. It is strange to say, I do not use a thesaurus. I think in phrases, and complex words, so it comes natural to me to write that ...

I agree that it needs to grow. Show more detail of the abstracts you are trying to reach. But I like the idea there are questions the reader must ask ...

Vertical monuments of conformity line the ground. Caricatures of the insane engulf the sacred zone. Ripples of light force their permant etch apon my spoted skin. Violent direction randomly applied. ...

I enjoy the rythem of it. The pulse is the basic rythem we can relate to with another person. No matter how two people are unalike, they both have a ...

This was sarcastic enough for me to look twice, read three times, forget it once, and then ponder what is for lunch. Overall, good with the evil. If you could ...

New, Grumpy, ocd, indecisive, complex, over analytical, complished, tall, loving, deep, painful, and over all underachiever. So long and thanks for all the good burbon, not that junky stuff most ...

Again this shows my like for the short, simple image something can make. Thanks

I am never into rhymes. It just happened that way. This one is someone losing their grip on reality and memories. With that lost, the lost of life and passion ...

For this poem, it shows the quick disjointed thoughts of someone starting another drudge of a day. Distain, anoyance, and just dealing with what needs to be done. It is ...

The light is your preception of your place in life. Darker it is, less you feel you can make a change in anything. Make it brighter, just watch life and ...

Pulling down from the point of what you have fallen, I do admire how the poem showed the speed of decent

Broken ideals decorate the path Error Corrected thoughts discarded Images of dirt filled imprints on the floor For the sounds of empty jugs of delivered water push into the vision ...