Interest in this blog is for those who partake in valuing philosophy and poetry.
“How can hope, be this sick?” says he, to the fog of himself, before the mirror’s idleness. For a reflection’s sake, love is his only teardrop to come forward, marking his humanity into the glass. It is at his feet. It is a puddle, mirroring him. A photograph. Of a woman, to the world. To […]
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We cannot look at love as anything other than a mode of stillness. Captivation. Here, a woman named Lisa breathes, brought down upon a loveseat from her husband, Jonathan, and his hands. He has kissed her forehead, remaining damp to his lips from exertion. A wandering smile, darts from East to West across his mouth, […]
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A burial. You are my tomb. My place, in the world, is forsaken. Upon you, I will rot, decay and slumber. In your arms, I am lost. I do not heal, for I am lost. I have always burned a trail for my feet to carry me. I have executed innocents, for the sake of […]
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Of her, I see something starless. Still, the shadows come to me, as they ache their remorse. For I have guilt that would set an ocean atop a scale, and weigh it to Heaven. Nothing could challenge the departure of myself to where I see, with eyes that are frail, the face of her at […]
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Beauty is born upon her, with marks to her fields of skin. Imperfections that amount to the truths of this once-wounded woman. Cured by absence, though remains scarred in this man’s heart. Remains treasured more in his mind, than that orb of red. Of memories within bleakest stains, that never fade. They are the shadows. […]
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“No human could immediately correct themselves, without needing convenience. Whereas, no human could form wisdom, without an extended time in suffering.” – Modern Romanticism To think science would be needed, if there was a way for all humans to “grow up”, is the definition of ignorance. All humans, when errored or imperfect, displaying such in […]
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How upon a river, when that stream comes as tears, you’d ever be swept aside? My hands are disfigured, so unlike yours that bare themselves to the sunlit moon. Mine do tremble, beneath my face that has been smeared. Smeared by ash, while your hands are not with scars, though with the purity I’ve kept. […]
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“Has not the average person been aware of their steps, ahead? Is it a commitment to fear, to stay where one is? The future always looks the bleakest to those who cannot face it. They would rather see the light of the moment, as it grows larger with each waiting hour that passes.” – Modern […]
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A memory. A moment. Like one cruel awakening with Alzheimer’s Disease. Something gone from the mind, then the heart, then the soul. I blow my wind against the interior of this window. As I do it, I recall the definition to sameness. I recall what is left of it, as the words within a book. […]
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She holds a smile in her hands, while filming the ocean’s sounds with her heart. Sounds that return to her, upon when the waters lick the shoreline. Sounds that matter only to a world that never responded quick enough, upon when sickness took her beloved. A world that only gave a whisper from a dying […]
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https://www.amazon.com/Slender-Little-Romance-Peter-Wyatt/dp/1733382232/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=a+slender+little+romance&qid=1601562160&sr=8-2 Within this collection, the reader will discover the words of a young man, whose personal life has experienced the up and down avenues of love. Like a heart, love has beats and rhythm. Love is the feeling that has us stay for those patiently awaited moments. Love is timeless. Romantic poetry is a way […]
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How is pain felt? Is it not like the storm gathered in its heaviest gray? Would the gray remain for long, before letting loose what it has carried, being of its rain? Are we not the same in what we dispassionately yearn to be rid of? It is that brief moment of logic where we […]
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