James Edwards

I sit, and start to study
The art of the body
But what I found is
Unmotivated
...

As I write this,
I am drowning into the night
My eyes are seducing
My brain to flight.
...

The dawn was arising,
as my toes gently graced the land
which the buffalo grazed.
The shade of the tall trees
...

'You, who do you hate? '
'What? '
'Who do you hate? '
'No one'
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I would like my child to ask me
A question for which I do not know.
So I can reply
With Great pride
...

The words were stolen.

As the bindless book begged for boundaries
...

For every one person
Has a mind of two,
And whether he listen
Both he choose.
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Tonight I should be dreaming
But the water’s much too fast
...

It was the night after
Destruction abroad
Three large claps
From The Reaper’s applaud.
...

This story was written, but not on pages
Told by the lost of the wasted ages.
...

As I sit upon a hill, not too far from here
I watch the ballet of clouds and dream
...

I find myself on a train.
Returning to a bed that has missed my weight.
The only light is the one above,
It’s boringness radiating onto the page of
...

I was dreaming about Fountainhead the other day,
No reason really, just kind of popped up, an old memory
...

To make a poem you must feel the wind,
Catch the perfect moment and ride it in.
The world seems different, an aura felt,
Synchronized movements as the cards are dealt.
...

The west was scarier than we thought
With your spotted courage
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The mind is a magician
With tricks to tease
But why isn't simple,
For a simple man's ease?
...