You raised two suicidal
kids. One who questions...
Don John: " Only poets beside warriors get the...
A seagull, glides overhead, a hungry ghost between...
she drops something stone-like into the lochén, a...
Churning assimilation in guts torn open to reveal
bleak innards meshed in manias grip...
The Scream (1893) by Edvard Munch
He noticed nobody listens...
may pillows gather at my feet
and pile their way to my head...
To P&Q
She said that I was too sad, too damaged...
Speechless is the word.
Poetry is too loud...
I imagine
a bird...
A samurai's strike, like in an oval,
jolts from one pivotal point to the other...
One must search music
deep in within, that one may...
I danced with the devil
not knowing it was...