thoughtsgather

A space for my words to meander.

I wonder

I wonder

What makes a poet.

What makes a poem.

Do words

Need
To
Be placed
In a strategic
Or artistic fashion

Or tell stories of love and lost.

Or is the simple fact of the man
Sitting across from me
On the subway
Going to work.

His book about to drop on the floor
As his eyes close.

Or is it words
That
Mean nothing separately
But everything to-gether.

I believe rhyming is dated
And also highly over rated

But, what do I know
A poet,
I
Am
Not

Galleries of words, shared

I’m embarassed to admit this.

I dream of spending days in coffee shops, telling stories.

I dream of writing words day and night.

I dream that I am good enough.

That I am good enough and that people would read the words

And pay for the words.

Should this embarrass me.

I dream that this could be my life.

Painting pictures with words. Galleries, shared.

brazen escape

a poetry blog, mostly.

A space for my words to meander.

MY TROUBLED MIND

confessions are self-serving

bigbanglifeasweseeit

Life as how You and I see it. Life with a Big "Bang". A creature that mumbles. Stories behind the Scenes. Revelations of long kept secrets.

The Living Marianas Trench

With a Challenger-deep Sentiments

Mindoftannguyen

Words are beautiful beyond meanings

Ninefold Evolution

Strength in Mind, Body, and Spirit.

Heartstring Eulogies

Conjured by Sarah Doughty

ReclusiveDreams

an alien among humans

unbolt me

the literary asylum

Words on Empty Ears

Understanding someone’s way with words isn’t as simple as you think.

Cafe Book Bean

Talk Books. Drink Coffee.

DoubleU = W

WITHIN ARE PIECES OF ME

bujonswords

Poetry from an English Hart

Everything I Never Told You

Lucidly in shadows. Poetry from a hand that writes misty.