rumbling in the distant
faint vibrations, barely perceptible
until the moment they are
then that which could moments ago be barely noticed
can no longer be deafened or ignored
a poetry blog, mostly.
confessions are self-serving
Life somehow is chasing rainbows with a stranger; with that, you'll never be lonely.
With a Challenger-deep Sentiments
Words are beautiful beyond meanings
Conjured by Sarah Doughty
mother alien 👽
the literary asylum
Understanding someone’s way with words isn’t as simple as you think.
Talk Books. Drink Coffee.
WITHIN ARE PIECES OF ME
Poetry from an English Hart
Meditations on Art and Life
Lucidly in shadows. Poetry from a hand that writes misty.
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
Assortments of Pseudo-Intellectualism