Verse Quotes

Death is buried there into death Hunger strikes on its own last breathNo spine to shiver, no heart talks At life’s craving poverty mocksFrom the poem 'Exhumation

And yet methinks the older that one growsInclines us more to laugh than scold, though laughterLeaves us so doubly serious shortly after.

For he says, "In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you." I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation. 2 Corinthians 6:2

...and when we die we die alone I cry, I cry aloneLike a piece of stone I am thrown into the wavy ocean of lifeto atone...to atoneOnly to atone...

Wings can only flyas long as the bird flies Soul blackens when you put on vestment of lies White candle wax criesfor ignitable wickJealous people burnto make your heart feel sick

Every known thing used to be unknownAnd every rock could become a stone Someday nature will have to atone When soul sees dead flesh leaving the bone

Poetry isn’t an island, it is the bridge. Poetry isn’t a ship, it is the lifeboat. Poetry isn’t swimming. Poetry is water.

For nature does things in good order: And birds and butterflies recognizeNo man-made border

Each heart knows its own bitterness and no one else can share its joy.

I’ve reached the vanishing point without you.Here my heartache begins with your paintrying to find an unborn startin this fatal disappearanceFrom the poem ‘Me with the Vanishing Point

Starlight beats when heart twinklesYouthful sky beyond cloudy wrinklesMuse of glory to flame the nightVerse inscribed as written light

Sealing your lips makes your eyes talk Truth creeps beneath your lame feet’s walk Knees stiffen when blood vessels stalk A pounding heart’s lies hard as rock

Give me a moment I am preparing to drawback to screamLouder than a train overhead below a railroad bridge

Courage sleeps within our heart waiting to be awoken.

When the world uncovers some dark disguise, Embrace the darkness with averted eyes.

Thus it is, we sow motions of hatred out of our own impoverished understanding of love. Yet we do so in the name of love. The perplexing precipice of the illusory infirmity.

If I die today, will you remember me tomorrow?The love I'm leaving behind, will you care to borrow? From a snake-shed-skin or from the sky unknownIn all living and the dead I'll dwell to groan

And speaking of this wonderful machine:[840] I’m puzzled by the difference b

in the endit is wordspoetry. sunsetssomeone’s deep blue silk voice.mountain scents.someone’s smile.eyes. that we haveno defenses against.

Scatter as a prayerescaping my lips...as orchidsblooming in clouds.

The Bible is the philosophy of life.

The Bible is instruction for life.

If I were a flower, humming bird would be my favourite beeAnd If I were blind, the light of darkness I'd love to see

The garden was full of sorrowSongbirds and unusual winds whistled a rhymeClouds caused to appear and cast down darknessFor this was the first day the sun didn't shine

Because Dad told you he'd be here forever. Because I thought forever was like Mars -- far away.

I left smiles on your wordless lipsThe night roads- dismal and narrow, dream’s path remains shadowy wideas our lone hearts felt that arrowFrom the Poem 'My Tomorrow

There lives a weeperin each of us-a silent mourner honoring our despairwhen our willingness slain by helplessness continues to resurrect to be slaughtered again

…they speak great swelling words of emptiness…

Eagle's flight of loneliness soars so high Around its sigh, no more alone the sky Other birds remain away, clouds pass byBetween shrouds of life and haze sun rays die

Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.

...what good would it do toshutter your windows, neverdream of rainbows or find hopein promises? Why choose to walk awayrather than hold your groundand fight for love?

I have to get off this elevator.I can't ride with him, Can't look at him, Can't be this close to him. Can't, Can't, can't.

In all the flames of fire fume’s left the traceInto the bluest sea the sky is drownedThe miracles of life can you embraceFrom the poem 'Can You Embrace?

Sitting makes us think of standingOur current stance keeps on demanding We wish to fly without the wings Puppets move before pulling the strings

The atmospheric intensity of two electric lovers is the most righteous place I need to rediscover.

I climb the door instead of a treeJust to crawl with myself walking freeWhat if I’m a lizard beneath my skinChanging my colours of the human I’ve been

I rejoice at Your word as one who finds great treasure! [Psalm 119:162]

For we know that our old self was crucified with him so the the body of sin might be brought to nothing, that we should no longer be enslaved to sin.

Do not fear, for I am with you - Isaiah 41:10

I love to read books. I love to read anything really, even the back of the cereal box.But there is nothing that will ignite your soul like reading God’s Word.

There is a moon, that rests in the quiet cornersof a lover’s lips.

Now, go, wirte it before them in a table and note it in a book, that it may be fore the time to come for ever and ever. Isiah 30:8

You should be more carefulwhen you move, my dearwhat with you...spilling moonlightinto my poem, with a mereflick of your hand.

I wonder at the starry pattern in the skyAre they little pieces of moon which want to fly..?

But there is one cool thingabout having a weirdo mother.She works so hard at rememberingwhere she left herselfshe doesn’t have timeto work on me.

I made the first cut razor thin. A gentle kiss on virgin skin.

From our solitudewe shall create, forge songs, pour in the reflectionof the stars and refresh the mindabout the silk-ridden roads that wait for them who have forgotten to feel.

Let all the green leaves be mineas long as the trees define shades created by their limbsfor the soil made with victimsof atrocity's vileness to redeem the fragileness

By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.

I started writing poetry and philosophy when I was 17 years old and my mind so was wild. Now I'm 56 and I often want to write like a child.