1695
There is a solitude of space
A solitude of sea
A solitude of death, but these
Society shall be
Compared with that profounder site
That polar privacy
A soul admitted to itself—
Finite infinity.
May 24, 2025
May 24, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC
the stars remind me of things
that they will never remind you of
you will look at the stars
and not think of anything but what they are
i will look at the stars and think of you
always
i will always look up at the stars
hoping that you are too
but within the stars i see you
i read them like braille
as they tell me our story
at the very least
the ones in our memories
Mar 20, 2024
Mar 20, 2024 at 10:11 AM UTC
Picturesque life
I can see it unfold
It will no longer be
A story untold
Everyday is precious
With you by my side
You're my light in the dark
When our worlds collide
Now, it won't be easy
But I won't sit and ramble
Because this life of ours
Is just one big gamble
I know we'll make it through
Despite all the trials
Because for you I would walk
Five hundred miles
Song lyrics are great and all
But what I say is true
I can't wait for our story
To begin, just me and you
Sep 4, 2023
Sep 4, 2023 at 2:54 PM UTC
Trouble is my business
The name of my game
I fix problems
Don’t assign blame
Keep it under my hat
I don’t complain
I go about my business
Sunshine or rain
If there is trouble
Trouble is my name
I don’t look for it
But if it comes to me
I know what to do
I got the beat
I’m a tiger in a tornado
I am the wind
You don’t want to mess with me
I always win
Trouble, trouble, toil and trouble
You know the drill
My compatriots will call on me
When there’s a need, they will
Jun 26, 2023
Jun 26, 2023 at 6:25 AM UTC
you speak
soft words
onto my lips
I savor your
sweet nothings
warm and lovely
on the tongue
©KNL
Jun 21, 2023
Jun 21, 2023 at 1:45 PM UTC
If life gives you lemons
just be thankful it’s not a lime,
and when squeezing it
avoid getting the juice in your eye this time.
Jun 16, 2023
Jun 16, 2023 at 8:31 PM UTC
Edgar Alan Poe is dead. Seriously, I read it.
He died in October 1849 - or did he?
Do we really know?
Poe wrote about death a lot,
he teased with it, it was his favorite tool.
He kept death close and twisted it like a knife.
His profession was the macabre, the shadow,
the summoned dread and the gruesome aftermath.
He was a writer and a critic - what’s more dreadful than a critic?
They say he died from “unknown causes”
- how absolutely perfect.
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 3:01 PM UTC
If you keep shooting a man in the leg,
he'll eventually beg for the heart.
Apr 23, 2023
Apr 23, 2023 at 4:38 PM UTC