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Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
  Jan 25 Queen of Nothing
rig
when i died the first time
inhaling an ocean
they said
this was not the plan
turn back.

and when i did
i tried to fly with no lessons
nor wings
and they called me
stubborn.

but i came round
and sought a chainsaw
and then a mermaid
and then death herself
i think she was

and each time
they said the same thing
over and over and over and over:
wrong destiny. wrong destiny.
go again.

the instructions are in a language i do not possess.
  Jan 25 Queen of Nothing
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
yes-

diamonds are the most beautiful collection of atoms on this version of earth;

but how would you feel if everything you touched break down?
  Oct 2016 Queen of Nothing
Lunar
he asked if i ever smoked
because my eyes are always teary
and my lips are pale and dry
with my hands always shaking

i told him no
but my mind's a constant cloudy haze
and it's caused by something dangerous
to both our health

when it burns, it has this unpleasant smell
and tastes bitter on my tongue
much like your bitter lips
spitting out unpleasant words

it's us bygone,
it's we
in the past tense
it's we-ed
hi!! i enjoyed writing this one, because it popped up at first while i talked to tamia about **** (see what a conversation between two poets can cause) and i made a joke that there's a 'we' in **** and the "-ed" is a suffix for the past tense of some action. so i decided to play it into a poem and voila! enjoy this **** :-)
It was a cold time. I lay in the frost
alone, immobile and blue from the treacherous
air, but then you passed and lay with me just
to keep me warm, seeing something worth saving
in my empty eyes. It was a cold life.
Yet movement came back to me, dispelling
the ice and banishing it from my heart.
You were the fire for me, the fire that gave
me my sight and filled my eyes with starlight.
The fire that heated me and danced with a
scarlet tranquility in the night, calling
me forward into safety and saving
me from the wind which so harshly froze my being.
~~ In this moment you, you and your guitar, are singing just for me. ~~
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