Depending on who I am talking about or who's talking through me - if the person is a kind of hip-hop, or rhythm and blues person, or if the person is a kind of old-fashion gothic, meaning gothic attitude, then that will determine what form the poem will take.

Look heavenward and speak the word aloud. Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud. Peace.

Poetry helps my soul escape its encasement.

To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power. Or the climbing, falling colors of a rainbow.

If you have done the best you can do and if you have gotten all you could extract from something, you have given all you had to give, then the time has come when you can do no more than say thank you and move on.

A bizarre sensation pervades a relationship of pretense. No truth seems true. A simple morning's greeting and response appear loaded with innuendo and fraught with implications. Each nicety becomes more sterile and each withdrawal more permanent.

I did what I knew.. when I knew better, I did better