Little blue line Blinking thought blank Beckoning mine Blue, blank, blue, blank . . . Oh! I ought! Ought Write … More
Production quick, Consumption quick, No pens that write. Only mouse-clicks Upon the faces To boundless places Where mind gets sick … More
And it flies, it flies Away. Another’s window. Quick. Can you see it? pt. 1
In the flight of the Navigator taking off, taking off. Away.
Our blackened, blistered, battered bare feet Sink softly in silent sand step by step. Through dark salt water air, … More
At night I fight brain Wars. To bring light I write with This pen as my sword. Waves of … More
Poet knows it, sows It, grows it, then shows it. All To let go of it.