mike-finneyWhisper

American
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Don't look down.These bristles twinge my hide, / For a second I worry of looking a poor shave. / I chuckle;
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Dec 23, 2012
Do not be afraidThe river that flows from the depths of your soul; / It touches my hand in a sting of rain. / There is pain there, yes
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Nov 22, 2012
And the lord said;I braced my feet; knees light, / And the lord said: You shall not fly. / I firmed my earth; legs tight,
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Oct 2, 2012
goneThere are words / So many words / That take much more of life
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Sep 10, 2012
for you, in my headI often sit here and run my hands over the smooth shard of glass / that portrudes from my chest. / I feel it. Everyday. Everynight.
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Apr 29, 2012
knittingI w / O h / F a
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Jan 31, 2012
emergeA Man will ask himself: / Is the glass taken of half / Or given of it?
62
Jan 14, 2012
oneIt’s a curious thing what a starving man will eat. Not that you would not know what scrupulous fingers pan the earth in desperation. / You walk by near every day, methinks. Too you see him. Blink once and that boney shell will paint the back of your eyelids. Yet, you look away and dash the eye, leave him standing dark in the corner - the shadows drawing lines across his branded face; the wrinkles of a contorted sorrow. / I don’t blame you, surely, the same way you cannot blame a dim-witted hound for cowering away from the mess it has made. But you put him there, whether you tell yourself you did or not. You did. And I do blame you for that.
10
Jan 6, 2012
Thus far.Thus far / I coin my faith to love / (That which so binds me to this pole,
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Jan 5, 2012
I watch each delicate thread.I watch each delicate thread / Pull away / (Frail twine,
82
Jan 4, 2012
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