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Pussy Pussy, astronaut The air is cold my skin is hot. They said I'd change I'd acquiesce, I have not changed, perhaps regressed.
By Triple Decker Sandwich9 years ago in Poets
In the hands of fate we lay upon these thoughts... Again and again the climatic memories unfold. Time's last hope, love's last kiss
By Lacey Burke9 years ago in Poets
Amazing how a tree rooted in the ground, tentacled deep into soil–– can be excused for yielding to the strength of the storm.
By Kate Minnow9 years ago in Poets
You open your mouth to judge me Loading your words like Military grade rifles Taking aim at my insecurities And I know
By Dan-O9 years ago in Poets
There's an inextricable link that this article will attempt to explain. This is not the first of its kind and most likely will not be the last of its kind, but this piece will discuss artists who took their own life.
By Triple Decker Sandwich9 years ago in Beat
He sits Reminiscing A man, once bold-hearted And headstrong Sitting Reminiscing He sits Wondering Passing over, days gone past
By Jordan Catto9 years ago in Poets
O! Dear Mountain, Why did you do this to me? You taught me how to walk, On Rocks and Lose soil, Only to send me back to where,
By Creative Hub9 years ago in Poets
If I were a library book, where do you suppose I'd be? On the shelf between fiction and criminology? Or on the table next to the coffee ring you left.
By Paul Crocker9 years ago in Poets
