My eyes are the dew On the wet grass They see only the hand placed On the page of the rain Where the thinning of poetry Is blurred By trying to reproduce the summer Under the advent of clouds
It is a failed watercolor Of a sunshine on the beach But tomorrow maybe The light will be at my window
The Fountain is dancing to the beat and I watch it cheerfully.It sways to the left, right, and into my shallow hilarity.I never laughed that way to such, there must be some magic to it.And so, it waves here and there, and I, giggling from ear to ear. The Fountain is dancing to the beat …
…a poem by Sena Quashie Clear Silence | by j.crasselt Listening to my alter ego I forget my wishes It is not niceWhen the choking gray blueOf that life sentenceUnder the yoke of the windIs not a choice But he must be wise in praying He, who relies on the Grace of God Be my last friend standing Though …
via KINGOFWALLPAPERS.COM There’s never been a night I wanted to whisper in your ear moreThan I did last night.I wanted to shape the cold breeze,And the pattering rain,And open your mind to mine. I want to lay my thoughts out like a morbid canvas;Spread the brain,Press out the creases,And show you the vivid colours swirling …
Maybe…tomorrow
…a poem by Sena Quashie — 15 jan, ‘16
My eyes are the dew
On the wet grass
They see only the hand placed
On the page of the rain
Where the thinning of poetry
Is blurred
By trying to reproduce the summer
Under the advent of clouds
It is a failed watercolor
Of a sunshine on the beach
But tomorrow maybe
The light will be at my window
— Sunday, 15 January, 2017
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The Fountain is dancing to the beat and I watch it cheerfully.It sways to the left, right, and into my shallow hilarity.I never laughed that way to such, there must be some magic to it.And so, it waves here and there, and I, giggling from ear to ear. The Fountain is dancing to the beat …
I heard clear silence
…a poem by Sena Quashie Clear Silence | by j.crasselt Listening to my alter ego I forget my wishes It is not niceWhen the choking gray blueOf that life sentenceUnder the yoke of the windIs not a choice But he must be wise in praying He, who relies on the Grace of God Be my last friend standing Though …
Last Night [POETRY]
via KINGOFWALLPAPERS.COM There’s never been a night I wanted to whisper in your ear moreThan I did last night.I wanted to shape the cold breeze,And the pattering rain,And open your mind to mine. I want to lay my thoughts out like a morbid canvas;Spread the brain,Press out the creases,And show you the vivid colours swirling …