Best Wresting Poems

To those who measure the depths of their power,
In the fathomless pools of tears of the oppressed;
To the human hyenas that gorge themselves full,
While the...

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I yearn for when my troubles were as frost flowers; when the intermittent wresting
of my inner strings was natural , a part of growing up,...

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Wresting words from mind to pen
Spilling ink and thoughts again.
Recalling days of youthful fun,
Bags of marbles, precious ones.
Unshared secrets, memories old
Hidden deep in velvet folds,...

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Autumn.
The morn is wresting itself
between ill
leaves, which that summer
brought along.
The sky stayed
in clefts.
The yellow lamps
among dark trees.
It’s autumn.
Slowly, downwards
after the pure rain –
sheltered....

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Flutters a crocodile gecko his thick-edged tail,
And licks his sticky lips with his twisted tongue; 
His eyes ablaze with fire, and in his abdomen, 
Rotten...

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I walk in starlight’s drizzle,
sprinkling softly on my head. 
But within I wield a chisel,
wresting poetry instead. 

Unhindered by the test of time,
my plan through...

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Azul 
Mi corazon  
Aches within a torch lit
No match better against the ropes
Longing familiar acrobat events
A dream team fantasy—I am
Luchadora of love 
Sueño de...

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Yes, everything here changes.
Again the wheel is turning
wresting with iron fingers
out of my heart steaming blood.
But You, I will not sell You
for thirty silver coins.
The...

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Cobo and Nala are two different breeds,
they have fun doing those naughty deeds,
wresting and rolling on clean bed sheets,
jumping on the kitchen table to eat...

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I can’t recall this never existing
     Pallid cold corridors so colorless
         I have...

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I am hollow
A bottomless hole
I am no gold-dust
For I am so close,

No truism ought to deny
For all eternity I exist
Dwelling next to every life
For I...

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LOVE   

Life today, matters when living in the chaos of a broken mixed up life.
To be centered in true divided open love. Of...

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Barchans go on droughting in Yagyakarta sods
outpaced here I throw a soliton in gaze-mirage

			*

Here we stand on this, the Lee of 
   ...

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The wresting groung for old homos
Is full tonight
Because we spilled so much of our youth
In endless repeat anonymous encounter
That it was not enough to end...

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up to my ankles in icy snow
the dogs wresting the shovel
and running away
the hood of my coat is slipping down over my eyes
my gloves are...

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