My panhandling eyes watching you walk down the street. Can you spare some love?
This poem just bloomed out of haiku 131. Without any effort or pain that often accompanies a creative birth – … More Written
Book of memories opened wide on my table. You on every page.
The hidden sadness shamelessly resurfacing with the tide of wine.
In the book of past your place is now firmly sealed and the page is torn.
Intoxicated by your soft touch and kisses. Over the limit.
Down the streets of my heart, and the avenues of my mind. Down the valleys of my soul, and the … More A little poem…
Staring at ceiling, pondering the life meaning. Need a love jump-start.