Today, I read a forum in Reddit
about a guy who kindly asked for help...

God
We are the lampposts in the streets...

At the bottom
of the button of a rose...

Water and the rocks,
Splish and splash, the river goes...

Walking in the aisle, spell bound,
she frowned after tripping over her evening gown...

At the Shore . . .
There was a wave, a tiny wave...

well, it is what it is, isn’t it?
The time has come yet again...

On one hell of a morning, when the lair of an evil...
“Mr. J...

Poetry is like love and life, and time, and death
and what not...

there’s always a first time for everything
every morning, i open my eyes for the first time...

Jesus Christ,
You are like the sun rising amongst the mountains...

i wanted to be a snail
to hide comfortably in my shell...