Some believe that poetry should rhyme and follow certain rules; but for me, poetry is when the words fall out of my head onto the paper. And when I read those words later, they still speak to me. Perhaps something i've spewed forth strikes a chord in you...
this is my poetry
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
illusions
dusky...
the mosquito in front of my face looms larger than the jet plane just beyond her on the horizon. dark storm clouds roll past just over the trees, but no they're fluffy white cotton clouds surfing the blue.
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