Tuesday, May 02, 2006


No sound in the alleyway,
Her direction gone astray.
Concrete canvases display
Ghouls of black night among the grey.

Inhuman, bloodless spies
Through the corner of her eyes
Her courage with each step dies
The world is deaf to her cries.

Noislessly they follow
Creatures of the moon, hollow
Using only black to gallow
Her words, her screams, she swallows.

They reach out in despair!
Stifled by their glares
She evades each piercing stare
And offers a silent prayer.

Towards horizon bright
The sun, her secret weapon in the dark fight
She escapes from the beasts of the night
As they are doused by the burning light.

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when language like bubbling streams flow

when words are laid down to fit like lovers' hands

when you feel the essence of the poet from within

when swirling thoughts are caught in the net of rhythm

when images reel as you read

when pen and paper create a symphony

then, it is poetry