Best Staining Poems

Hate is an unnecessary need
in the book of necessities.
Love is the key component
within the book of obsessities.

Lust is an unfaithful guide
misguiding towards fake perceptions.
Sincere love...

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I had a dream...

I am sleeping on a cloud. Upon awakening, I gaze at planet earth below. From my vantage point I can see the...

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When morning breaks in shades of wine...
  with claret skies to blush the dawn...
     I will stretch and yawn, and...

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On a still...ancient horizon,
Massive dragon wings emerge,
To the atmospheric battlefield. 
Where two legendary beasts,
Clash for the love...of a dragoness.

A battle of mythic proportions,
Of two stonily...

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“I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.”
Chuck Palahniuk


Is there such a metaphor as...

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the times I've been here, words in hand
          mind-sculpting verse of phrases, grand
   ...

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   heroes?

there are none here, now ... ever ...
      don’t feign to look, for your eyes will
 ...

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Inside this Gothic womb, now but only a cold cavernous hollow
the votive flames steal away in puffs of smoke
as I kneel, atom-like, lost in loneliness.
Alabaster...

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Her delicate silhouette still lingers in my eyes, 
closer than these arms can embrace; haunting me. 
I breathe her in within the lull of a...

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We lived in a crooked house.
Built on a muddy mound of hope with the corpse of yesterday half buried beneath
Sad eyes and smiley faces. A...

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As the chandelier dances with lustrous light.
Eras of still slumber awoken...from fluid dreams,
...in the depths of her confines...hibernating..
..fermenting her taste...timeless beauty.
 
Legends of vineyards past...uncorked.
Poured...

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In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions

Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples...

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It's the only land that you can
get all seasons in one day
you name it UK displays it
all the colors from blue to grey
 
It certainly...

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"Backhand"



You have turned me
inside out, cut open
like a tennis ball
I used to beat backhand
along with the racket
hard against the garage wall

To make sense of it...

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Flickering in the night, a melting’s texture of regrets afterglow,
Candlelight’s waxed drippings staining the white laced table cloth,
Yet in the black and white photo album...

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