Best In The Mind Poems

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And when I run -- I run like a...

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I thought I was a poet who had a pen of gold
With clear access to writing that was mature and bold.
I thought I could go...

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Some of us are secretive at first. We hide our poetry’s soul self, 
gently letting her peep out; sometimes regretting it immediately.
Fearful of critiques from...

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On a special Suicidal Night,
I sit alone inside this nightmare 
In a nightmare with no windows 
Nobody can see me
I can see nobody

Flowers, above
My eyes...

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One need not read her horoscope to know
this woman's fate, and though wisteria
cascades sweet blooms of lavender like snow
outside her door, it's still Siberia
pervading the...

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Hidden beauty resides not in the grace like charms
Of coy smiles 
Painted across a gentle Madonnas face.
Nor is she vested within the chastened vows
Of saintly...

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It was a glorious summer day and I woke up with the lark
Got my wheelchair ready and then headed to the park
I noticed a girl...

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A
fine
Parrot Tulip
in vibrant intensities 
with unique undertones
of green acquirable only in a 
few forests. A ruby red swirls within 
its petals beckons awareness of those...

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You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you...

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I relinquish my pen before the storm
of her tears falling upon my bare arm
her gentle whispering breathed in my ear
Muse of mine, adieu to your...

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Days pass into the weak, loveless nights. The moon blinks.
The stars swirl beneath Van Gogh’s brush, as he links.
Comet light passes twisting cypresses, a schizophrenic’s...

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Untroubled is the quiet night
How peaceful is a world that glimmers white
Frost and moonlight have whipped a silver glaze
And silhouettes of trees are black as...

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I stand about five feet eight
I'll admit, I'm a tad overweight
Drive an old pick up truck
Not one to pass the buck
At the moment have a...

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Our lives are not immune to the impact of time,
nor is our mind between the tensions of love and hate.
That's why I curse this wanderlust...

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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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