Sometimes I see poets’ faces
On faces on the street
On people who walk by
I see the poets’ faces
And I wonder if
It’s a coincidence
That I keep seeing people
Who look like poets
Or maybe
Those poets
Whose faces I see
Are connected with me
And we are bound together
In some spiritual way
Or maybe
It really was the poets themselves
Who I saw walking down the street
It could have been
For all I know
Stillness The waves crumble And roll towards the shore A trade ship passes In the distance The wind blows the palm leaves And the sun sets Only the rock is still Stillness An admirable trait The ability to refrain From moving this way or that Subject to the...
I Keep Writing Writing helps a lot When I've got a lot On my mind And I seem To have a lot On my mind All of the time So I keep writing I write a lot Because I've got a lot On my mind Nearly all the time Writing helps me get the thoughts out So I can move on to...
The Lucky Ones Who chooses the lucky ones Is it God Or the government Or the Man Or the lucky ones themselves Is it their friends Or their enemies Or their families And what makes them so lucky, anyways Do they enjoy life more than the rest of us Do they have...
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