Green, yellow, blue with red.
Tiny little bird, by my bed.
Yell, talk, peep and flirt.
Over the place of my birth.
...
Illusive winds cascade.
Rain imparts wayward folly.
Ramparts of crying souls.
Innocence embraces travesty.
...
Here, I sit with my friends, [ THE POETS ].
WINE-my love-enraptures me.
Only to tell thee-my friends.
I love you all - 'past love'.
...
So the waves move.
We all find our groove.
Some with the silver spoon.
Looking wayward at noon.
...
Things in the life of HOBO-A were looking upward for a change.
Odd -jobs and fighting the devil in the bottle. HOBO-A was in
the park, sitting on a bench, with a new Bible he bought the other
day. The sun had a halo glow of life, with, future radiance in the
...
With a story, comes perspective of the story. Here in scope, we
find two entities of life. A dominion of stance has formed with HOBO-A and the friend. Each embracing life, in the context of experience. Transposing those contexts, into a manifestation of being. The
audience of the world taking notice of manners.
...
Guests gather around the water hole. Intoxicating
drinks, elevate grandiose aspirations. Band-aids
sound a melodious song upon the right hands.
Idols, on the magic eye, spouts images of
...
Walking in vibrant space.
A net work of lace.
A sound of musical lore.
At my eye's open door.
...
The beginnings of wars begun.
Brother slew brother, mankind undone.
Crying blood of centuries of wars.
Mimics the first, done without a gun.
...
Between window and screen.
A lone bee to be seen.
Cold outside flashing in.
Summer over with stinger pin.
...