Plant your seeds and watch them grow,

Then you can reap the harvest which you sow.

Destroy the dreamers you create,

And leave the broken branches to lay prostate.

Since that's not the only excess growing in your garden,

You can keep on killing and expect our pardon.

You have made dying their first duties.

Why do you insist on killing these

The tip of my tongue ( Read more... )

Poetry is the greatest evil ( Read more... )

I wander through a brown field in my mind ( Read more... )

Once, I had a dream I was in a box ( Read more... )

Eyes connected and the orchestra played.
Six years the band has been playing
To four stone legs.
Violin, piano, guitar, and trumpet
Cannot break the rocks.
But as you looked at me
And left our ballrooom
With his hand in yours,
My feet were free
And I shared our last dance.

Waves lapping against the wood ( Read more... )

There is no echo from these voiceless throats ( Read more... )

How long has it been ( Read more... )

Poetry has sunk to a lowly state ( Read more... )