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    • Hell

      Deep down in the fiery pits of hell,
      war has started, if you couldn’t tell.
      The burning souls are screaming,
      the demons’ eyes are gleaming,
      they kneel down before the devil’s throne.

      He’s the one of power, giving the commands,
      for each he has the devious of plans.
      The red-hot flames are prancing,
      as the devil starts dancing…Read More

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    • Thoughts

      High expectations
      Will never understand now
      Will things ever change?

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    • Love Sonnet LXXXV

      Yaraa, as the stars echo your
      name, I give you my heart
      (te doy mi corazon).
      There is no other way to

      say this, as time passes and
      you stare at my smile,
      see into my nature and
      intentions, that you have

      given me hope, have given
      me love, you have given
      me life. Yaraa, you are

      my peace (tu eras mi paz),
      and…Read More

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    • Shadow Haunting

      don’t look at her
      she’s not at her best just now
      it isn’t the disheveled hair
      or the worn out sweats she’s wearing
      but if you study her appearance
      you’ll see the struggle in her bearing

      in the way her eyes slide sideways
      a magnetic repulsion effect
      slipping away from any chance meeting
      guarded…
      there’s no safety…Read More

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      • True enough, sometimes you just want to melt into the woodwork, disappear into the shadows, hide from the world or, perhaps someone particular. Someone who has hurt you. Then too, often it’s the opposite. The need to be seen, to be acknowledged as a human being. Not as an object or in a negative way, but seen for who you truely are, whole,…Read More

        • It’s such a dichotomy….needing to be seen but wanting to disappear. At times it’s simultaneous. We are such complicated creatures. Thank you, Curt

    • April 21st – The Corner Where the Wind Recites Salt

      April 21st is not before.
      It is not after.
      It is the day that stands sideways
      to the rest of the month,
      a hinge with no door,
      a moment that refuses
      to belong to time at all.

      It hovers.
      It waits.
      It breathes in a rhythm
      that does not match the world’s pulse.

      Around the c…Read More

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      • PAR, the wind carries many poems of salt and yes, often they go unheard or undeeded, which is of course a shame,cause if they did find ears that hear, our world would be a more joyful place. But, what might be even worse is something that Bruce Springsteen wrote in a song (“Jungle Land”), “and the poets down here write nothing at all, they just…Read More

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