He Has A Way With Words Poems - Poems about He Has A Way With Words

between implies three and nothing appears that way~~...

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an appointment seeming as a fork in a path portending dark or light.. it is a lingering of time so it seems in an unchanging map of nothing which all of these words express~~ ...

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Too many opinions. Too many people sharing their minds. Is it too hard to sit and think before you speak? Don’t you think our own conscience cuts us down enough? Or maybe you don’t care. Little do you know, I am my hardest critic. I want to do my best, yet my best isn’t enough....

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The pathway to hell paved with good intentions — and unwritten words (Dreamsleep: July, 2025) ...

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Irises color of an ancient oak. Ancient oak with hues of warm golden honey. Honey merging into the ancient oak, creating a spellbound glen in those irises. Irises with such a glow. Glow only the sun rays catch with their stunning beauty. Beauty so unique to see in such eyes. Eyes such an escape from...

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Now, my dear friends, let me, please, look up to see what does this "wormhole" mean? An opening into or through something made by a burrowing worm ...

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As obvious as it may seem, Our higher life we must redeem. To get full value, its true worth, It’s not a given at one’s birth. First acknowledged, then understood, Overcome ego, become good. Use your energy to create, Our deeper thoughts our true estate. To share the truth that we have gleamed, Our higher self must be redeemed. Legacy: our thoughts repeated. Shows our life...

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You don’t have to write them all but thoughts deserve a chance To live beyond this time and place in words reborn to dance You don’t have to set them free but guilt will curse your ink For thoughts unread trapped in your head to wander — indistinct (The New Room: July, 2025) ...

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Mrs. Holloway polishes her poetry dimly, Regaling herself with the accoutrements of Selected poetry, cluttered and less jinxed By way of satanic slamming by famished, Idle critics who read The New York Times Just once in a sugared year. She chooses her stanzas locally. By that I mean her stanzas nurse patience, Drifting from gossips to loose, impotent Talks held when midnights ail. She digresses...

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PLEASE-THANK YOU AND HELLO-GOODBYE Please and thank-you, Do you often hear these words, Shops, offices, even schools, Lack the use, Only nerds adopt them, what a bore, Do we need to use dictionaries Any more!!!!! Shortened versions on messages WhatsApp’s and texts Pls. And tx, or plz and thk-u, Oh wow then you really are with it, But for proper English, only...

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I look upon these silhouettes; of night trees Dark delineation is the monster who comforts me As my haunting sorrows swayed in the breeze I warned them of being wracked with disease On a calm night when they're still Words of rage make me think I have skill Shaking hands chop against their will And when my mind has had its...

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If no-separation is what is then all bets are off~ appearances arise which are not explainable and any explanations are appearances arising~ seems like some Sunday morning simplicity....

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The world, my son is one big market people buying, people selling some winning, some just walking through. I was once a loud voice in it Trading dreams, chasing deals but today, I feel quiet like the shop is closing. Lying here, I hear something a whisper, maybe a name and I think it’s time to pack my things. Son, listen to me life is trade and timing. When...

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Strangeness the grotesque the starkness the edginess~ miraculous stories all courtesy of appearing separation~~ ...

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