william-b-burkholderWhisper

American
Sort
Tucson’s LamentWinter respite, / Desert landscape, / Innocent Street erupts in horror.
30
Jan 11, 2011
ElusiveI am lost in humanity’s sea, that great wind swept expanse of self indulgence and heartbreaking reality. / I seek the emotions of peace where no such emotion exists, only that of the state of peace, the situation of peace; / negotiated by power ****** and money makers. The heart and soul have nothing to do with it instead; it is a chip to be thrown upon the worlds table, a tool to justify misguided means.
16
Jan 11, 2011
Half Past MidnightHalf past Midnight / (30 minutes listening to the rain) / W B Burkholder
8
Jan 8, 2011
Yellow DogA yellow dog lies / in a yellow field. / Thinking of greener days,
19
Jan 6, 2011
A Poet's QuestionsI listened to an ignorant man speak today, A bias, racist tirade. My ears and heart stung with each syllable of hate he uttered. Is it not sad that in a day such as ours, that persons such as these still exist? / I was incensed at the mere possibility that this fool might think that I approved of such viewpoints and prejudices. But yet, I said nothing to him, I only listened to his goings on and empty justifications as to why he felt this way. / In what light then am I left in? My silence; did it fuel his racist diatribe, Or… was he a tool so that I might use it as inspiration and yet another insight to write this small but nevertheless important piece?
11
Jan 6, 2011
TV IconoqueensTV iconoqueens, / late night show, / and mystery.
15
Jan 3, 2011
Art and ManWho is the Artist and who is the Man, What differences lay therein? / Who is it that struggles more or less, is it a monopoly one over the other? / It is in the minds of all men to seek serenity and peace, to stand and hope for this is common to all.
12
Jan 3, 2011
EveningDusk is gone and the midnight hour beckons, / when the flowers sleep, / And night’s silken dew,
15
Jan 3, 2011
A little about my writng habits“Where do you write? Is Ambiance Important? Do you have rituals or habits when you write?” My reply to this question is below. / Most of my writing is done in my den. In terms of “ambiance,” The space that I write in doesn’t have a lot of that, the ambience comes from within I suppose. The space that we create in is not so much that of the physical as it is of the spiritual, The room I write in has very little to do with it except that it houses my keyboard and printer. The “Room” is just another tool. / The so called ambiance comes to me in the form of my memory, of my visualizations of life, or the questions that I have regarding it. To rely in the physical space that one finds themselves in, to depend on that to create, or write what have you, I think is a dangerous crutch to lean on.
6
Jan 3, 2011
The RestaurantLike salt from a shaker, / she flowed into the room. / Sprinkling just a bit too much of herself.
21
Jan 3, 2011
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write