PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I believe everything has its origin in something else.

I support the belief that oak trees exist to house pigeons.

And that the sky is only singin' rain

when there're plants to water...

I wholeheartedly accept the dirt beneath my feet

and move to the beat of my lover's drum.



There's a globe of dreams

spinning at your fingertips.

And in it, the colors contained within worlds of possibilities dying to be obtained.

I can't explain it all in one refrain, but if you close your eyes and point a finger down

You'll likely be mystified by where it all stops.

Chances are, in the ocean blue you'll drop

like a penny in fountains -- a wish about to be made...



I believe everything has an echo.

Chaos theory refined to explain the beauty of multiplied time.

In it, we stack minutes...

In it, we layer seconds into card decks

and shuffle them onto the floor,

Marveling at the broken beauty of what pieced our pasts together...

In your hands, palm lines define

in creased sections, the path a droplet will run when you reach out for rain...



In a volcano, there lies a dream of mine

Cooking...

Stir the giant

and I'll burn the skies...