The words and linesaren't coming today.I lie down for a nap.I dreamt of metaphorsand similes.I woke up.The years swim awaylike bass at spawningtime.

The lady of sorrow  does not possess a name. For the sake of this poem, I will call her: Lady Sorrow.   There's another time in another place, where she sat deep between the slopes of a ravine.    It was overcast,  and so was the spirit in her eyes. Where...

Those who make the laws Seldom abide by them Those who call for war  Fight them from the boardroom  Those who pick the crops Are the hungriest of all Those who write the news Believe nothing 

tranquility in stonedon't make we weep anymoresadness in sorrow for the morrowthe dark in me quiverstrembling with losssacred understanding I am alteredwithin the bleak witheredmy lightshine shrinks in the shadowsthen evolves becoming britghtermy soul loves whollyso it is no...