I wouldn’t give ten gallons of my own piss for clear sentence that gives the sense of a tree as a tree, when I revel in the nonsense of its being my own Grandfather, a...

It was quite a beautiful thing, the way we simply just came to be, with no effort or trying and slowly we found each other’s hands in the dark. No chains or promises, just a...

I am a free soul, singing my heart out by myself no matter where I go and I call strangers my friends because I learn things and find ways to fit them into my own...

I don’t need anyone else to distract me from myself anymore, like I always thought I would.

I knew it was a day of endings, one way or another.

Flora took pleasure in the delicacy of her approach and studied the ways of the smallest, sweetest blooms she could find, tiny pimpernels and forget-me-nots hiding in the pockets of the fields. The energy of...

The Decision…I wiped my hands on my pinaforenow sullied and stainednot crisp or pressedas it had been before…

…prose unfolds in time; and time contains both obstacles and revelations. Prose develops, the way characters and situations do. It requires a flow. A poem is an instant, lightning across the sky. Prose is before...

Each of us carries a room within ourselves, waiting to be furnished and peopled, and if you listen closely, you may need to silence everything in your own room, you can hear the sounds of...

I tended to find lines of poetry beautiful only when I encountered them quoted in prose, in the essays my professors had assigned in college, where the line breaks were replaced with slashes, so that...

For I have nothing to lean on, nowhere to call my home and there is nowhere I will go for Christmas to rest my head and touch familiar walls. I have no degree to show...

The flesh of prose gets its shape and strength from the bones of grammar.

Poems, even when narrative, do not resemble stories. All stories are about battles, of one kind or another, which end in victory or defeat. Everything moves towards the end, when the outcome will be known.Poems,...

Echo of the waves appears in the sky, their lights reflected in your eyes. I’m back in our world and happy again. The sound of your voice, compassionate embrace… The power in your touch, serenity...

Ode to the Chamber…linger here amidst the chamberin which we embrace our lovetalk to me of sonnetsand call me turtledove…

Prose: words in their best order; poetry: the best words in the best order.

The rhythm of fraught footsteps and fervent heartbeat orchestrated a symphony of anticipation and dread.

I am a worried person with a stressed out soul, living a simple life with no capital.

The fact is that certain themes cannot be celebrated in words, and tyranny is one of them. No one ever wrote a good book in praise of the Inquisition.

For me a page of good prose is where one hears the rain. A page of good prose is when one hears the noise of battle…. A page of good prose seems to me the...

Honor LostAmbulant sunshine piercedthe soot covered glass ~the feeble man wandered byin this ritual morning pass …

Afghanistan had collapsed and everyone’s life now lies broken at different levels within the rubble.

The Tao Te Ching is partly in prose, partly in verse; but as we define poetry now, not by rhyme and meter but as a patterned intensity of language, the whole thing is poetry. I...

You were the hardest year of my life and I’ve never been so happy. What does that say about me?

So you will meet many ’someones’ who will give a new definition to your name. And you can not build walls, must not close the door and please don’t hide,because if you ask me about...

You take what you can get, I reckon. You take what you can get.

But what humans forget, cells remember. The body, that elephant

Git’er DoneThey beat their swords upon their shieldsTo no beast or man would they yield

They were completely vague. They expressed everything and nothing. ‘It is the Æolian harp of style,’ thought Julien. ‘Amid the most lofty thoughts about annihilation, death, the infinite, etc., I can see no reality save...

The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and...

Säjer att jag rymt hit för din skull men ljuger förstås det låter vackrare då ville bara att du skulle ta bort nåldynan från badrummet ställa in kanske mjölk i kylen låtsas att vi lever...

It could have been so beautiful.The way I learned and got free and swore to never love another person ever againand it could have been so beautiful,the way I actually did.

Decades from now, my grandchild is going to be a poet… And she’s going to write about how she’s a living testament to how her grandmother made love to hurricane and calmed the storm.

I miss you,” Isobel says as he leaves, but the sentiment is crushed by the clatter of the beaded curtain falling closed behind him.

Tiny GigglesSilly giggles of laughterI store upon a shelfI give some to otherI save some for myselfI am rich beyond all measureThough not with worldly wealthI store up these treasuresFor my heart and soulful health.

Saturated Arrogance…she rebuked those about herin darkness did she dwella pathetic historyall mortal man would tell..

Rain woke him, a slow drizzle, his feet tangled in coils of discarded fiberoptics. The arcade’s sea of sound washed over him, receded, returned. Rolling over, he sat up and held his head.

It pleases him how Spell is how the word is made but also, in the hands of the magician, how the world is changed. One letter separates Word from World, and that letter is like...

I am constantly torn between the will to be seen and still hidden so god damn well, a contradiction I never figured out.

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.

The city they are building asks you to stay; remind yourself what is worth keeping, while the lighthouse of your moan warns the ship of your heart that he is a stone.

Sleeping AtlantisSilent cool watersdancing upon her skin ~silent cool waterushering dreams within…

The scrape and snap of Keds on loose alley pebbles seems to catapult their voices high into the moist March air blue above the wires.

The punter sweated on top of Marina, his lips all over her young body, his tongue slipping out from rows of crooked teeth, pushing hungrily from between his shrivelled lips like a clam from a...

I am not collarbones or drunken letters never sent. I am not the way I leave or left or didn’t know how to handle anything,at any time,and I am not your fault.

I used to be fine in my lonelinessbut somethingor someonesnapped me out of itand showed me company. What it’s like to feel at home,and so the going on by myself part wasn’t as easy anymore.Seasons...

I felt naked beneath the wildness of her eyes. I felt alive. Unknown. And I knew then that the world contained so many things I would never understand.

A changeableness, too, as if beneath my visible face there was another, having second thoughts.

I ache not from need -but from my heart’s gluttony of you.

You know that sickening feeling of inadequacy and over-exposure you feel when you look upon your own empurpled prose? Relax into the awareness that this ghastly sensation will never, ever leave you, no matter how...