Dying of Dehydration
Dying of dehydration,
Floating in a clean stream,
‘Til reaching the end,
Is just not for me.
Dying of dehydration,
Floating in a clean stream,
‘Til reaching the end,
Is just not for me.
I kept having a problem, so I changed how I think. I’m a writer,- I don’t mind, running out of ink! (Why?!) It means I jotted, drew, wrote down, or blacked out,- truths, fears, and follies, thoughts, faults, and sins,- I admit what I’ve done. I place them in poems, books, and short stories, each …
No helicopter,- No flying,- No cheating,- to the top. Look around,- be joyful, here, in this spot. Give it a go,- try and know. Grab a pick-axe,- keep movin’. Climb far, climb hard, this mountain’s endless,- do what needs doin’! Notes “Pick-axe” is used because it is the wrong tool for the …
Intellectuals, Innovators, Conquerors, Warriors, and Kings! Writers, Freethinkers, Liberators, and Proliferators! Pharaohs, Empresses, and Queens! All exist because someone educated a nation,- a generation,- to learn,- to teach,- how to lead and- how to follow.
The Voice I I am The Voice of the people who live. Those who made it through, yet march on still. The fighters, survivors, workers, and grinders. The adventurous, adaptable, the righteous and willing. The reachers and teachers, the aspirers, and refuse to die-rs. The people who take the risk,- who move at a pace most brisk. The ones …
Rain on Fire Sizzle, pop, put out. – dry and dead, blaze gone-bye. Earth’s thirst quenched, the gone stay missed. Flame to ashes, ashes to dust, dust to vapor,- see through the mist. All we’ve loved,- a few we’ve kissed, Feel it right now!- Know the Sun continues to shine. Live forever, in the heart …
Give Here, have a drink of water. No, it’s not the last one. Here, have some, no need to worry. I see on your lips, a thirst I can quench. I told you, not the last one, but the only one. I love you, so, I give it freely. Here, have the rest. Yes, I’ll have …
True Love Finding true love, in the eyes of a man, the one I see, when before the mirror I stand. The stranger I’ve known forever, I ask him: Who would ever be, in love, with a wretch like me? With a crooked smile, tears of joy- fill his hazel eyes. He replies: I am, …