Brooke Mitchell Poet Free verse

None

Stories pour from my third eye in an iridescent stream of emerald green light.
CONSCIOUSNESS HAS NO COLOR.
And one day my consciousness will transcend the mere shape of a letter./ The slippery sound 
of a sentence slithering snakelike from the space in between your lips. Trading the velvet 
vocal vibrations of my throat for silence's silken texture.

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Astro Pherik November 18, 2009 at 7:13 PM Brooke, this is absolutly gorgeous! your words flow, in definitly made the ink in my mind bleed, much love!

Ernilando Tugaff May 1, 2009 at 10:10 PM Brooke, wish you the best of lcuk in the world of poetry. God bless. Ernilando

Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen April 30, 2009 at 4:41 PM Now that is wonderful alliteration. I like the./ that looks like a little sliding board down which the slippery sounds can transcend along with your consciousness...Fun Write! D-SJ

Nadia Shahwan April 30, 2009 at 3:59 PM Sounds nice. It looks like a brochure. Pls consider a poetry structure because it is meaningful. I wish you all the best.