Crushed by massive waves
That break as I stand naked
And lit up with sun
Warming up and slow baking
My cheeks and arms and shoulders
My body soft, heart bolder.
A tanka to me
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Crushed by massive waves
That break as I stand naked
And lit up with sun
Warming up and slow baking
My cheeks and arms and shoulders
My body soft, heart bolder.
poems and ruminations written in homespun plain language that everybody can understand.
Understanding ourselves and the world we live in.
"Be obscure clearly." - E B White
Unleashing the beauty of creativity
Cool Family Ideas
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
Sharing tidbits of my world
Music | Literature | People.
Aspiring to be the best at writing. Poetry lover, haiku and free verse to be precise, I hope to one day master
- Verse Seventeen -
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Health • Inspiration • Life
For both poets, however, the poetic self is an illusion. But it is an illusion that is invented and reinvented time and time again with each discrete observation and experience. When all of these discrete illusions are put together, we receive a whole picture of the writer and his times.
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