Exquisite brown waves—long
circlets of silver moving over you!
enough with crumbling ice crusts among you!
The sky has come down to you,
lighter than tiny bubbles, face to
face with you!
                         His spirit is
a white gull with delicate pink feet
and a snowy breast for you to
hold to your lips delicately!

She was bled into riches
That can't be seen
And when she digs her ditches
She doesn't know she's mean

She's casually honest
And she's your friend
Like a singer's sonnet
She flows like wind

She can't break the spirit
Of an honest man
But she can steer it
The best she can

She knows nothing's better
Than the truth of love
And when she reads the letter
I hope that's  enough

P**   Put your thoughts to words

O  Over a piece of paper, computer screen - or whatever

E   Edit your work to your satisfaction

T  Tell us tales with your fingers - let it be your voice  

R   Read your work over, and then read someone else's

Y   Yearn to express yourself, again and again

Poetry shines with light and beauty,
True art woven by intricate words.
It can sing songs so stunning,
That it outshines the best of songbirds.

But that’s only half of the story...

Poetry also grows in cold dark places,
In the pits of immense pain.
Fed by air filled with suffering,
Nurtured by acid rain.

As it shines with such light and beauty,
Poetry embraces true darkness.
What a conundrum it is,
That we can have *beautiful madness.

He wanted to know what I was made of
so badly
that he couldn't resist reaching into my chest
and pulling parts of me out through my ribcage

Like scarves pouring out from the sleeve
of a Las Vegas magician,
the fallen leaves
from nearby, naked trees
kept flowing endlessly out of me

He wanted to see my soul,
but couldn't find it
in the black hole
he was stupidly peering into
Within seconds, I had consumed him
Churned up into my guts,
he went away
Curiosity is either brave
or extremely stupid

In this life she is untrusting
She says she is a "new soul"
Unhappy with everything she tries
She doesn't understand the ways of people

My mother, she knows
That this is not yet her time
She is here now to get practice
For the day of her prime

I am here to watch over her
She recognizes my "old soul"
More acceptable to human nature, I am
Therefore I remain more peaceful

She will pass one day, but I do not fear
Because I know our paths will cross again
Whether it be 40 years from now or a thousand centuries
Our souls will forever remain friends.