The book of Lord Schist
was on the short list
with his rock-solid verse
that shouldn' t be missed.
His writing is terse
and it comes with a twist
he gives all those who curse
a slab on the wrist.
Sex is a zombie with teeth made of glass I want to give all my time to an insect, who knows only one flower & makes love in it Shelter in the bulbous beauty of life itself away from the the carnivore machines Our time's a tigress jumping at the fat bars of her cage ...
You are on your own, you think yourself unreachable. Somewhere on the side of the light. All talk about giving yourself up into the world, as if you can be glorious that way, and you sit there, cold light in your face, half way to darkness You make the senses light, more of the world ...
Poetry isn't writing, poetry is experiencing. You can't sit down and force yourself to write poetry like you can force yourself to write a verse in rhyme. Poetry is the residu of you experiencing the word, its art consists of being ready to catch the words when and if they come. You can live ...
Hello my name is W. H. Nedua and my first poem is about a friend of mine who passed away: bllz lllz mbll zll bll lzzzbl lzlzlzlz bbbllz my next poem is about another friend who is not yet quite dead: zlllblz bllzzll bllzlll bllb mllmbbllz mmlplzlz and i would like to finish with a ...
You have to thicken your words to hold them in place
The original title of this article was “How I Overcame Depression” because it sounds more spectacular and is more likely to propel me into the realm of fickle yet immensely enjoyable Internet fame. But I didn’t want to lie. I don’t believe my symptoms, burdensome and debilitating as they were, warranted the diagnosis of clinical ...