Greg Dennison

Greg Dennison Poems

The apartment is so quiet now.
In the early darkened hours I listen to the cars swish by.
The future lies scattered like the bottles on my coffee table, and much like my friend passed out on my couch, I too lay passed out on life's couch.
I thought I had a firm hold on life, as I strolled beneath trees, along avenues at sunset.
...

Your shores extend into the dawn, and for a brief moment we are one.
In silence, my thoughts are fleeting like Diana's arrow piercing the evening sky
as stars burst, drifting upon the cracked tiles of seafoam green buildings.
And, from rooftop to green hills the heart calls out like the trill of a distant flute.
...

My glass sits beneath the bar's dim light.
A brim of substance beneath my fingers.
As the light gleams from one edge of the brim to the other, a sea rests between.
As brown as the skin of my girl across town.
...

Inside my heart is a ghetto, it's windows are broken.
It's streets are deserted.
You will run your fingers along brick, as you walk beside the boulevard.
You brave soul.
...

Greg Dennison Biography

A native of Southern California, Greg Dennison's poetry typically revolves around many common themes: personal angst, love, California, beauty, nature, sex, relationships, alcohol, & much more.He is a published poet and, aside from poetry, his interests include exercising, Brazilian jiu-jitsu in which he is an active jiu-jitsu fighter, reading, photography, dj-ing, and pretty much any excuse to be outdoors.He has always believed that there is so much beauty in life that sometimes, even the simplest every-day things that we take for granted, are rich in beauty and principals that we can learn from.)

The Best Poem Of Greg Dennison

West Covina

The apartment is so quiet now.
In the early darkened hours I listen to the cars swish by.
The future lies scattered like the bottles on my coffee table, and much like my friend passed out on my couch, I too lay passed out on life's couch.
I thought I had a firm hold on life, as I strolled beneath trees, along avenues at sunset.
Now I realize life is as diverse as the 10 freeway and Amar Ave.
Maybe there is reason.
Perhaps up ahead like the San Gabriel Mountains that loom in the hot July night, staring me in the face night after night as I sit on these steps.

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