I hope and i pray,
but that doesn't mean i believe
everything's going to be okay.




b.r.

Green and blue.
Each contorting into gruesome hues,
Only to dance,
With the thought of each other.
Creating,
Yellow.
Yellow like the eclipsed sun,
Yellow like the dying flower,
Yellow like the blood of Gods,
Ichor.

Shane Linville has a propensity
to steal other poet's poetry
he claims them as his own property
which has an air of impropriety
using social media to let others know of his thievery
shall bring upon his name the mark of notoriety
there is not one once of decency
to Shane Linville's infamy

Crying for abstract reasons
Bewitched by a beautiful curse
I am aware of my insanity
The land of my artistic lunacy
My silence is an antidote
Something vital is missing in me
I could only tell this to a poet
Only he would feel what I mean
But this restlessness, I miss home
What is that noise?
Whose is that voice?
The endless music inside my head,
I need to know,
The answers lie within me
And I need to go.

fortunate we are
to live in rural surrounds
we've no pollution