Straightforward Poems for Straightforward People. A poem about the artmore hotel. I could never love a woman who does not write poems.

You know, I know. The devil shaking in my legs knows. White stripes in the wood. I used to think church. Was the place to feel the spirit. When my spirit was light, but. As I got older, my spirit. Looked to clinging, to hover. In the fringes of the bowels. Of the dark and desperate. Hells we call out nature. Tonight, Hell is on. Hell is a court with the.

Blogging for the well-read and ill-at-ease. Coming Soon, My Blog! Ninety Four Two Forty Nine. A World in Her Own Words. C ities of Tiny Lights. A Small Circle of Friends. Welcome to A Small Circle of Friends. A blogging group for the well-read and the ill-at-ease.

A garden of expression, grown among the stones of the Brooklyn streets. A fall from the sky day. Watched by the eyes of those. Who would burn us while sleeping,. Our blue sky of freedom. And ordianry, in daylight. A hooded young man crouches. I long for my city. And my dreams of this city. I came full of hope.