Smoky Hoss Poems

10,000 angels
rise and sing,
for every soul
that finds a dream -
...

I drempt I was a butterfly
In a hurricane;
The world was the storm,
I just wanted to fly...
...

The high-wires on telephone poles
are covered in sleepy snow;
the passing electricity
moves through them quietly and slow -
...

A nature walk
late in the year
left me thinking I should've known better
than to beleive I had nothing to fear
...

A tub full of water
would be better if hotter,
but the pipes are broke
and I'm just a simple bloke,
...

Reader, your voice is the poem
you are the words; and
nothing more.
Reader, there is no poetry
...

He's an old man now
with fond memories of long gone fishing trips.
He sees France and Germany in his dreams
and recalls the sweet taste of a young frauleins lips.
...

May your troubles blow away,
so far away, with the whistling wind,
never to pass this way, ever again;
your feet on your own path
...

At sunset the fiery sky rebels
into gray.
The clouds become stained
with orange, fighting the approaching dark.
...

Canyons and mesas
have no use for time-pieces;
moments are measured in blowing dust,
hours by how far of a walk it is
...