Site-Wide Post Activity: All Authors
 Somehow he should be removed The reasons are self-evidential He's anything but Presidential There's no way to reach him no... [read more] |
 "further down the bookshelf aisle" Further down, the air tilts — cedar and something sharper, like paper just tor... [read more] |
 On the beach, at unclouded, unimpeded dusk, the outgoing tide has left its trove of gathered debris: unoccupied shells and hunks of driftwoo... [read more] |
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I am grateful for knowing something I wish the world would know How every baby is born with a need for love… and i... [read more] |
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To every human who to this world a uniqueness you have brought… May you be blessed to be yourself… in a world that is tr... [read more] |
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What is it we love about a baby’s smile? What’s the magic in their smile we all see? Is it purity, innocence, acceptance, happ... [read more] |
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Parents gone all day, he constructed his version: long-haired, almost naked (white crew socks sheathe his feet), and fully engorged. H... [read more] |
 “Echoes of You” (Verse 1) I wake up to silence, your voice isn’t there, Your shadow still lingers like smoke in the air. We built som... [read more] |
 this empty spirit this empty spirit clings to life like dreamcore & haunted castles pain and aversion, the v... [read more] |
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The Lantern at Low Tide At the pier’s end, a lantern swayed in the wind, its light holding back the dark by inches.... [read more] |
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Naked---except for sheer blue OTC's---Seth, gasping at pleasure's peak, releases his core's confected sweetstuff into you: thousands o... [read more] |
 Poesy, as the scholars say overrated and underrated at once and still a hope that we cling to Change—a constant permeat... [read more] |
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Sometimes unable to write poetry. Other times it flows out with pure ease. It’s hit or miss. It either kicks into... [read more] |
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The Salt Lens They ground the crystal with salt in the slurry, each grain a star’s ghost dissolving into glass. ... [read more] |
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The Loom of Salt The warp is taut, white as a winter shore. I pass the shuttle — each weft a coastline I will never walk again. The... [read more] |