poetry books
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I’ve lots of poems of poetry They flutter in the breeze. Of Humpty and of Dumpty too. The mouse is in the tea. I’ve had them all inside my head Just waiting to emerge. Some I’ve stored there for some years They mostly all converge And then come out just how they do I have…
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I’ve got no time for love poems for My verses seldom sate Any wont for cheerfulness Or anything but hate. It’s healthy not to pent your pain, Instead, to scribe it down. A necessary act for one, Who feels; or else I’d drown. I hate the man who loved you back When I was seventeen.…
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Her lips taste of absinthe and full moons. Her scent is of purple sunsets and pure passion. The nectar of the gods as near as I can tell— She mystifies me, fascinates me, Challenges me. I have never met anyone like her before. It throbs like an itch In desperate need of scratching Overwhelms my…
Musings of the Mad 