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we hold
and collusion crashs
the debris shinning
and jagged

while death dances

I held what I know
and gave what

and the grist
chewed up the edges
and seeped
like a wound
that always cries
when memories

and the blaze
never dies

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 


Don't change the last part of this...I felt every word of that part.

"The perfect woman perpetrates literature as she does a small sin: as an experiment, in passing, to see if anybody notices it - and to makes sure that somebody does." - Nietzsche

been around combat vets of late
either UN or otherwise
long ago was near one from Kosovo
one is never the same
and the emotional trauma
from families
dysfunction hidden like subsonic
silent but powerful
if this voice spoke we would hear
it all in Unison
Speakers and Unison

thank you

author comment

You just add another pem,

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

I should do more western verse and Hiaku
Hiaku is to be read in one breath
a single exhalation
beautiful isnt it

keeps me from total madness

author comment
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