Maybe it was the work. To get milk down the street. Maybe it was the exposure. They swore it was safe. On Navy ships, valiant,. Maybe it was the agent orange. Uncle Sam admits now, oops. Maybe it was the 40 years of nicotine. The 20 years of whiskey. To function, to forget. Both fought, both defeated.

The ever evolving words about me. 8230; and we became a family. May 24, 2015 by Becky.

Be as it may, the facts still remain. Image shot from Brooklyn Bride, NY. To the jagged edge of the next,. Of a strangely nomadic past,. Tautened to the craggiest peak. Of their stringy existence,.

Because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse. Under drying skies, north,. The summer has been too wet. To appear, for poems to rise. Like mists, for some sort. Croon to me like a wild road,.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Vegas Has a Dirty Filthy Mouth. To the release of some. And can I keep it up? .

Within me lives the saint and the sinner, and each regrets the other. I wish I were simple. Popped they are a tragedy. But I am the layers of loam in the wood. Just in the spectrum of green. And one hundred and eighty degrees. Stretching from dank earth to full bloom. The worst of times are those when I am still. But not quiet in my mind. Thoughts buzz like hives moving their queen.

She got the date of the party wrong. When she spoke to the police. It was 4 weeks ago, more. We try to save the beast. You just try to remember the day. Poem by Annie Jadin, speakingvoiceless. Take me to church,. Help but sing along, wondering where. Pines scratch at the sky,. Jet contrails are blemishes with. Cobweb blood on the blue skin. She leaves notes in the morning.

Sharing poetry and deep thoughts, and random frivolous things. My rooster struts everywhere that he goes. I think I know how he feels. Living this life must be taken head on. Like your balls are made of steel. Life must be dealt with the way that it comes. With confidence that you will conquer. Empty bags, our Christmas cheer.