Poetry | Stories | Photography
Tim’s friends describe him as a quiet introvert. They love his kind presence.
The news ran a story about the rise of an oppressive cult leader.
One friend swore it was Tim, and others weren’t sure; however, all agreed Tim would never do what that maniac did to those people.
A slice of your love
served on German porcelain
eaten like the French
I bid you Adieu
See you when the sunset ends
Speaking to the stars
A Forest Spirit
Softly moving through the snow
No words left to say
Home from a long day and hungry,
looking in the fridge for inspiration.
Sitting down to take off the shoes,
floating away in tired mind clouds.
Inspiration takes hold, then “Fark!”
A single tear rolls down your face,
cursing your poor smashed toes.
Run Away with me
Dance on a cloud, touch the stars
On the moon, we sit
I feel the winds of the cold sea.
They blow through me, and I feel free.
I feel the waves crash over me.
They move me down, and I can’t see.
I feel the love you have for me.
Your love changed me, so I am free.
I feel the life you lived with me.
Your love lives on just like the sea.
Let’s burn a candle as we read
to feel like we’re in another time.
You brought the chips and dips;
I gather the books, paper, and pens.
Together we sit lost in imagination
as we dream within the candlelight.
I never knew you liked to draw,
and you never knew I adore poetry.
You enter through a portal door,
innocuous, different.
A mistake I did make,
for you take the quiet spaces.
You invade every facet of my life;
no room left for my words.
I push back against the deluge,
you won’t listen.
You turn,
I close the portal door.
A quiet carriage,
thoughts of being alone.
The tension remains
as the passenger fidgets.
Headphones separate us,
yet there is no escape.
Living in a prison of sorts
wishing for the platform to arrive.
Why must every window be viewed
when it’s so dark outside?
C & K 