by Kumari de Silva
Why did some people get born where the angry tornadoes tear
up the scenery, or earthquakes yawn open the ground like a maw,
or Tsunami throttle, waves screaming while the sky recedes?
How do some people hold fast, hanging tough, as luck jumps, while others
just free fall, crash, then burn, without promise, without hope?
Good karma, blessings from the gentle Mother Earth or the Christ Father God?
Whenever I wing images of you: blue eyes brightly shining, a smile on your face,
more than I ever deja vued, this slight relationship of feather right relating values us.
Get real: nothing pushes me away, nothing cages you in, is there a tomorrow?
Luck is lark, no notes, just the pure now flutters in my heart.
- Where Father Had Drowned
- The Editor is Sick of Evaluating, Ranking, and Lik...
- Afternoon on the Floor
- excellent poem
- Routine Stop
- Near The Border Line
- The Titanic
- OLD WOMAN IN THE ABANDONED BUILDING
- PURGATORY MOODS
- Divvy it Up
- "THE BODY LIES"
- AND THEN?
- Hard On
- this world is ending and i think i’m doing the rig...
- Hidden in the Cracks
- sick day
- Cliché Country
- Kaleidoscope and Harpsichord
- Legendary Creature
- Is That It?! (Adult)
- Peaceful Rest
- collateral murder
- Songbird Dance
- 4 poems by Chris Butler
- ▼ June (34)