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Monthly Archives: March 2014
The quiet night Where ceaseless beatings Rains the wounded dove the blunt smash Hunting deep within The bleeding wool Of the old infant love The arms of touch Fingers the ears of the Pregnant cricket Kicking its feet to churn … Continue reading
Hidden Hidden it is Spreading the feet Of broken bones Therein lies the arms Of pleading seeds Beating with the pulse Of a chasing deer The crying heads Paddle the stream Of bloody ice Rushing through the Bricks of rusty … Continue reading
I do hope The heavy waste Of the crying night Would be blessed With the morning’s lips I do hope The shades of the dark Fastened its belt With the carriage on the angel’s back Hurrying towards the freshen grass … Continue reading