I could have swore you put your hand around my neck, but that might have just been a dream.
...
I've been stung seven times By your thorny touch But to smell your petals I endure...
I'd been to a sexual therapist - nothing wrong with me, don't list your drug addiction - there is no...
It is far into a poet's passion Through years, tears, torments, and lacerations Ripping...
death touched me while Life stood by pretending it's presence was...
Up before the sun rises Before the cock crows Before the dawn yarns His boat leaves...
You are the strawberry cream On my passionate lips That indulges my tongue In your...
If Money Comes
Folks asked, “why do I write poetry?” And I said, “I write to keep my...
I've finally done it, written a book and proof reading a copy now, available soon on Amazon and...
Good poetry is like steaming soup: about to burn your tongue.
i min hjärta jag tänker på dig
Ofta tänker jag mig ett ek täckt med...
Sweeter than just a sound She has fire in her soul Her laughter drowns disaster And...
Climax
After a series of deliberate well placed strokes Some kind of fusion...
The Value of Tears
I truly cannot sing her praises loud or long enough She really...
White Violets
I very nearly fell asleep without remembering The four white violets...
Two Harbours
Three cities Two harbours A single promise Broken ..
