Author Information
Sahara Confessional
I confess to my emptiness,
my deserted insides
grinding into Nevada sand.
With the scornful wind,
creating a storm:
The loneliness lizards run through
my rib cage where pride,
like rotting flesh
falls to the ground.
It disinagrates
off my nocturnal skeleton,
unlike my hope.
Sweeping my anatomy
brewing something obscure
with Sahara scars.
My loneliness confessional
brought me just one thing:
a raging desert storm
There is something about your poetry
almost ancient, like a mystical forgotten chronicle in a dusty, leather-bound book. It is clear that that you plunge into deep places with mighty authority; like an old sage and your words if given over to voice would be as if the whispers of winds that relate tales of the ages.Your words take the reader to a place where reflection comes easily as one might stare out to the horizon.
I notice that you have not posted any work recently, tis a shame…
Stay safe
Be happy
Peace
Dylan
"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"
Dylan Eliot