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 I'm leaving this town These streets that made me a man Where I buried so many loved ones Where I threw away my last shred of innocence I see... [read more] |
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Ask me a question And I’ll refuse Chip your mind And all abuse Show me a girl And I’ll reflect Say I’m better And she’ll reject Show me so... [read more] |
 My senses are numb My fear won't go emptiness takes over this cursed-hell-hole No ambition lost and spun forgotten direction of what's beco... [read more] |
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I thought I had found Some one who’d relate I thought I’d discovered When it wasn’t months too late Everything had felt so right But tunnel... [read more] |
 by Jeph Johnson Seemingly stranded on a barstool as the party rolled its collective eye past the strobes, Zachary's eyes... [read more] |
 i send you poems across the state via the mail figurative kisses and literal pretence but I don't know your kiss the real smackaroo conta... [read more] |
 The sky is grey, thought the sun shines bright People have no faces For a lover to hold into the night My quest takes me many places Shunne... [read more] |
 Moss-covered bricks Lined up beneath my feet. Memories of Amsterdam, Walking again down my street. Dull scents in the air Wafting through m... [read more] |
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You reach for the glass and nothing Dare stand in the way. A laughter behind us -unbridled With it, we're on our way. Speaking t... [read more] |
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Night comes out from within a sky of dark And the great moon's but a scant hole in the eve. We breathe in the scent of tears and living, To... [read more] |
 Stern hard face of reality Frowning in distaste. The frivolity Of my ideas, The waste! I see in others things not found, Perhaps they never... [read more] |
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Oh,and I'm wishing that I had never Held you in my arms at all. When you've drifted with the clouds Then it is too far to fall. Perhaps an... [read more] |
 Unravelling slowly back through time, Back to days gone, not forgotten; A river bank where softly blows The breath of pine trees swaying. A... [read more] |
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i imagine your kiss as a picture book witnessed by some but a story all mine wide eight-year-old eyes delighting in the color and shape of... [read more] |
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The wind blows soft in your dark hair, Sunlight and shadow in your eyes, Your voice the one stealing in dreams, Touching the harp in my mind... [read more] |