Paula Kneeland Poems

In the soul, melodies begin and take root
Some blossom.
Some die as travails of life.
A bene placito. - (it's up to the performer)
...

It was a carefree summer day,
when two blond children asked to play
I was but five and he just two,
we ran ahead as young kids do
...

If you scratch out our eyes does that make us sightless?

Or is it you who are without sight? Somewhere in between
separated by hatred. A vile distortion of something once beautiful, an attempt to erase
...

In dreamlike states I am my other self. Called
to astral planes beyond mortal comprehension. Consciousness
alone survives
here. A body, non-corporeal without visceral umbilical connection. Among
...