Category: Poems

Sonnet #1: Our Own Élan Vital

Her kiss leaves blood for me to fore’er taste;              (Drowning within one’s insecurities.)

Childlike Truth

You think I’m pretty, innocent, and sweet/ Yet innocence and sweet is not what I’ve seen

Beautiful Speech

Your body flies on a carriage of wind/ To land aloft upon the ears of humanity/ The question is always does it fit the trend?/ Alas, tyranny of the majority is the calamity.

Spilled Blood

There's no use crying over spilled blood / she hums, scrubbing