Bill Cantrell Poems

Looking for a different poem,
Taking me to new dimensions
I want to leap off the edge of midnight,
Into a dawn of new waters,
...

How can I find poetry,
in a world of moral decline?

Life has become of very little value,
...

Sleep Paralyses
Not fully asleep,
not fully awake
Loud buzzing in head,
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What kind of tribute does one give to a true poet?
To sir with love was a song that still gives me chills,
And why?
Lulu was a prodigy of which David Bowie envied
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Each stanza,
holding hands
Sharing the collective glory,
of the one they encircle
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The tongue of the pen,
Licks the wounds of the broken hearted
Those abandoned by the wayside,
Are by no means forgotten,
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Life inside a shadow
The ultimate abyss
Spontaneously moving to what end?
Everything has purpose
...

There are times when it seems,
All words have come to their end
Repetition has exhausted them
As they search out a resting place,
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Oh you precious flower,
Sadness can certainly be undone
With faith and eyes swelled up with tears,
Keep reaching for the sun
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Sinkhole

All my poems turn against me
Joining hands, they leave me in shame
...