Best How I Feel Poems

(The Fallen Poet)

Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalypto-- my very own limbo
Alone...

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Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That...

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(NOTHING MORE TO SAY)

I've seen the way you look at me
I've seen the way you look at them
Without wanting to admit, you hate everything I...

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You Are Not Invited

--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will...

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You say, I’m too far, 
towards the far side?
It’s a hazard of my left-handedness,
that I see the logic in abstraction.
Worlds lay within worlds
and colors bleed...

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In the narrow margin between life and death,
I feel as I'm walking a tightrope - but balancing.
I'm a portrayal of metaphors, 
illuminating like spring's moon,
who...

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Don't bother me with conformity
don't bother me today-
with things I should (or shouldn't) do
or what I shouldn't say!

Don't bother me with conformity
my house is not...

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He speaks with measured dignity,
one silent word at a time
His palmetto pen tells us: 
Tune out the cosmic background noise,
and focus your mind
on the sound...

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i believe we all
have a poem in our hearts

some need no metaphors

for a poet is a bridge
between words and emotions
connecting hearts and souls
through all four...

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It's been ten long years now since that awful tragedy
When a stranger I didn't know, gave his life to save me
I was on the edge...

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I came upon two empty chairs atop a hillside green
               ...

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yesterday is a collection
of photographic memories
tomorrow a whirlpool of
                ...

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A wise and sentimental one
              Who lived and loved some years ago
Had...

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"La Voz"

La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing, and celebrating life 
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must...

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I leave the daily hustle and bustle
of the city's cacophony of sound.
And head to where the leaves softly rustle 
in the breeze, and no one...

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