Biography of Giuliana Watson
I previously titled myself William S. I meant it to be ironic, because I don't consider myself anywhere near to his level. I believe if there were negative levels, i would be in that parameter. So, just to clarify, it was not ego that influenced the name, simple humor is all.
Giuliana Watson's Works:
My poem Void is being published.
Giuliana Watson Poems
A Life W/O Words...
To think, to eat, to live without words coldn't be stranger than a life without birds.
Why do the leaves fall so soon? Why don't the birds chirp? Why does the sun leave at night? Why do we hurt?
Why Did You?
Why did you cry for me, babe? Why did you stare? Why do you die for me, babe? Do you think I didn’t care?
If You Give A Student A Poem...
To read a poem To read a poem You've got to move on
Thinking about daddy just makes me want to cry. Wearing his shirt reminds me of his goodbye. I don’t know if I’ll get used to this, This missing of a daddy.
Stream Of What?
It's rippling by my ankles, the billowing magic of its bend. How does it's beauty intensify so O'r the rocks and the land's end?
Its All Over
Sorry. One Night Only You’ll be in my heart Let it go
Pray For Me, If You Wouldn'T Mind.
The life and strife of pain Is tearing me away. Sanding still between these walls Holding on to all that matters is now lost
Happily Seated On A Park Bench Rained
Like a child unborn, You, friend, shed as much ignorance as those Whom you ostracize on the very bench you sit. My friend, it hasn’t rained yet, and thus
Till Death Do Us Part
I’m holding my laughter I’m holding my soul I don’t know what to do with my new life on hold
How do I find my way Through a maze of people? People that i don't know. Large barriers
Heaven knows i can't stand in your way But i'm going to try anyway. I can see your eyes Looking bashfully away
A knife. Used to butter toast, Spread Pb&J, Relieve stress,
A black hole. A blank page. Empty Locker. Filled coffin.
Why do the leaves fall so soon?
Why don't the birds chirp?
Why does the sun leave at night?
Why do we hurt?
Why must we leave our things?
Why must we go in silence?
Why, mommy, do we live in a basement?
Why must I live in defiance?