This started out as an experiment
Write a few things down
See what happens
Have a few drinks
Tell a few people
Walk around town
and
with my chest out,
and my boots on,
I’d brag about being a poet
I’d claim to be a writer
Pretty much,
just to
get the attention
of one
woman.
What am I now?
A little later in life
Still writing stuff down
Still claiming to be some writer
I just have a blog
That not a lot of people read
Well it’s something,
isn’t it?
Isn’t it?
-C.H.
Why is it that we are so eager to appreciate the beauty of a: flower, or a waterfall, or the stars, or a sunset; but we are hardly ever that open to seeing the beauty in each other? Why is that, dear
“A simple request” she says, “Speak to me in poem, intrigue my mind with your words, genuine and authentic, for your words become actions, are the framework of our relationship, and have the power to
There’s a camera on top of the building Next to this one And it points Right at me I lift up my shirt And flash it my hairy nipple Then I give it the finger It moves with me Turning as I walk away fro
