Love flows like flowers, and grows like water. I’m so thirsty for romance I could drink a dozen roses.

Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.

Whole life is a search for beauty. But, when the beauty is found inside, the search ends and a beautiful journey begins.

I love to feel the temperature drop and the wind increase just before a thunderstorm. Then I climb in bed with the thunder.

Our love went from fly to flower to butterfly, and it was meant to beautifully flutter, not sit still on a shelf like a trophy to be collected.

When they had hurried to the train station with their violin cases, they had drawn almost as many stares as they would on any normal day when their hair was to their knees and sheeting...

I make sacrifices in reward of trinkets for my gilded cage.

The cork was in the bottle. He and the Atropos were trapped.

Knee-deep in the cosmic overwhelm, I’m strickenby the ricochet wonder of it all: the plaineverythingness of everything, in cahootswith the everythingness of everything else.- From Diffraction (for Carl Sagan)

Markings in dry clay disappearOnly when the clay is soft again.Scars upon the self disappearOnly when one becomes soft within.

Mistress Creation keeps calling my name… i long for her, and she, for me… we will be reunited soon. In the interim, i bide my time dreaming of her, writing about her and stretching her...

Driving down deserted early morning roads. Round and round. Round downtown. Through naked streets. Lips pursed on two litre bottles of beer, but pursuing the lips of freedom’s night. Swapping cars. Winding up at karaoke...

When that part of the woman meets with a man, all the flowers in the world suddenly bloom! All the birds of the world gather together and sing. The entire world turns golden, and your...

Parched by the deprivation of your love for so long made me forget what a cup brimming with love, on my lips, felt like. Everything that now wets it, only wrinkles it with a bland...

If I waste all my charity, all I’ll wind up with in the end is the wind. Still, I think I want to be the Dandelion of Love.

Genius in general is poetic. Where genius has been active it has been poetically active. The truly moral person is a poet.

The displacement of water is equal to the something of something.

There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against another.

..so Grandpa turned the rusty latchkey of his magnificent remembery and set free a symphony of stories

Being Adam Parrish was a complicated thing, a wonder of muscles and organs, synapses and nerves. He was a miracle of moving parts, a study in survival. The most important thing to Adam Parrish, though,...

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

Live a life abundant in love and rich in spirit, these are the seeds of a fulfilling existence. Be the safe harbor you seek in the world. Follow your dreams, not your fear. Go into...

No non-poetic account of reality can be complete.

There were secrets there, the secrets of the ether all mankind is born from; of the blackness that holds our oldest memories captive.

Some people were destined to have a significant other.Some people were destined for greatness.But few others were destined to be soldiers, to be warriors, to be alone.That is me.It is not a path that i...

If Messenger would be to open his mouth right now, his voice would be a terrible wound.

What would your shoes say about the things you do everyday?

Early in her career, Muse engaged her skills for technical purposes, such as document translation and schematic visualizations for government entities. She continued to write and paint poetically, in secret, using her pen name, Muse....

The grave casts long shadows, Iron Lord,” Mirri said. “Long and dark, and in the end no light can hold them back.

Did no one tell him that pain lives in this sand, dug in and watered with our blood?

I know who I was, I can tell you who I may have been, but I am, now, only in this line of words I write.

Shake those stars from your hair, pretty Moonchild. It’s time to dance with the noonday sun!

I get a little poetic sometimes. The moonlight does that to me.

a young man was hung by a rope made of Stalingrad snow

I love with love, so that we all may love.” ~ Amunhotep El Bey

REVENGE is a kind of wild justice; which the more man’s nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out.

Because we were not in our country, we could not use our own languages, and so when we spoke our voices came out bruised.

In the molten fire where he lay he could watch the slow machinations of eternity, the cosmic miracle of each second being born, eggshaped, silverplated, phallic, time thrusting itself gleaming through the worn and worthless...

With these words there came the rending scream of a shattered stirk and an angry troubling of the branches as the poor madman percolated through the sieve of a sharp yew, a wailing black meteor...

I drive as fast as four tire swings hanging from a tree branch in the middle of winter. I also make love with as much speed and rotation.

I was wild and tame and pulled into shreds and crushed into being all at once.

you areso deliciousto my poetic side.

Like a kite, carried by the wind, he followed her into the fluffy white clouds of her imagination. He didn’t think her silly for living in the sky, but rather, he marveled at the wondrous...

Do not wander in the deeps,Where the Shriker’s shadow creeps.When he rises from beneath,Beware the Sharpness of his teeth.

Our house is quiet, small and plain,and yet its rooms run far and wide. A hundred pencils, swift as rain, writing on sheets of beaten goldwould not be quick enough to holdthe strange adventuresshadows hide…

I knew that people said love should be unconditional, given like a dog gives to its master, but what Being could give that way? What could love though it had been kicked and beaten? What...

The unwelcome November rain had perversely stolen the day’s last hour and pawned it with that ancient fence, the night.

…and the women spread their ntsaroz and sit on one side, the men on the other, like they are two different rivers that are not supposed to meet.

Sometimes stars do fall to earth. It was true. They did and then became commonplace like the rest of the dirt on the planet. His star was one of a kind.He would never allow her...

I have seen beyond the bounds of infinity and drawn down daemons from the stars. . . . I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness. ....