Poetry for me is a way of living, it comes out of nowhere and I have to write it down. How I write, what I write, I decide. I am not asking you to be judgemental. I am gifted with the ability to see beyond the obvious.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
beacon burns bright
I slowly roll grieve touch it for a moment and throw it as far as I can
I unroll my heart letting you into it beacon of it burns bright
a kindred, I found in nothingness that was- and firmly established it in me
"I await with impatience for it to wash me over, again and yet again"