Gallery | poetry | Page 7 of 19

Up the River We Go

Nine men: 5 girls, 4 boys in a basket 1 paddler. The clear night sky is star-filled. Directly under the half-moon, a lamp over river...

Burning of Big Mother of a guy whose name starts with D. The party is ongoing. Bodies non-stop. The funeral pyre district is alive,...

Take two. I was remembering the gypsy Angel. Angel lived in an occupada, a squat, more like a crumbling hut without doors that closed,...

Born from ashes, who am I? The Ganges calls to cleanse my new old body.

These poems are a recollection of trying times and calmer seas. It is a journey with which people of all kinds may draw parallels, as I...

The story of a woman who's drawn downriver into a narrow and rocky pass and there's nothing she can do about it, her arms are limp from...

Bare in the park and no one to see

Perfect drizzle on sunburnt pavement aching skin is cool. Slant of a pour man's afternoon in company. On a perfect day out on the margin....

And found at work in bed on the street. Trying one more day and evening.

I had misintoxicated myself, as clarified, and had since felt heebie-jeebie. The Doctor said I needed help. Units in a box, stuck, unable...

A bird flying east encounters difficulties: solitude, winds. The story needs premise. It’s a red bird, medium-sized. It’s had no family...

(Tribute to Suicide) Even the beautiful dies. Be free.

Beautiful she has something in her eyes something. I'm making too big a deal of this.

Sitting opposite Marlon was Douglas. What did you see? Hot light was working its way into Marlon, suspected of direct involvement in a...

Bite not the hand. Be quiet, he added. The son of a bitch enjoyed watching.