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Walking Alone
Walking alone in the cool gray light of morning, silently stalking my elusive thoughts and not quite caring should I find them or not, it suddenly occurs to me that morning is not a time for...
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The Poet’s Struggle
A poet never sleeps at night; his dreams are all revisions When dark descends he’s lost within a hopeless indecision In love or in rage the empty page remains a voiceless vision The words won’t come...
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In the Dying Petals of the Poet’s Flower
Past the tick-tick-tocking of the midnight hour, Wrapped in sweat-stained cotton sheets, Robbed of sleep and feeling sour Like a muffled drum sounding nothing beats - In the dying petals of the poet’s...
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