I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Gaze at this hot, onyx pool, complimented by cumulonimbus cotton Permit yourself to be seduced by an ironic aroma that simultaneously soothes and galvanizes
By D. J. Reddallabout a year ago in Poets
Don’t mistake solitude for loneliness The former is a crisp garment, chosen The latter a way you're obliged to dress Solitude runs clean; lonely is frozen
Imitate the leaves Make an orange somersault Your beautiful death
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
Garlic is the only author among vegetables--listen to its fresh pages turning Your nose is studying the history of guileless, peasant genius
The night is a bustling, hip café We haven’t the pull to be admitted The luminous windows tempt and betray Their warm allure is counterfeited
Fame, power and wealth Like seawater, increase thirst As we drink them in
A mute, condemning judge is the blank page Mocking pride and confidence, wordlessly Its stark stare causes every youth to age
Pity seems benign, but it is poison Smiling condescension strangles the soul Better invisible than looked down on Better a diamond mistaken for coal
Do not hesitate Follow the stage directions Exit gracefully
She walks along the avenue all day Silent, determined and aloof is she About her, gossips have too much to say They speculate about who she must be:
Why do those who sought Restored, in-person learning Fly away from it?
Autumn has blessed this ravishing trio Kissed their leaves with lips of crimson fire Turned their green chlorophyl to rich Barolo
