Welcome to a world of limitless possibilities, where the journey is as exhilarating as the destination, and where every moment is an opportunity to make your mark on the canvas of existence. The only limit is the extent of your imagination.
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Poem: Storyteller
Hours whisper sighs as the birds swim by a marigold cuts cartwheels some angel is digging a trench. . .
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Poem: The Dance
I think of mice in the walls of houses all that scurrying about and what serious objectives move them.
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Poem: The Archaeology of Being
When they dig into the earth, geologically,/ the lines and layers speak their trauma./ Floods and fires, apocalyptic damage/ showing itself in the thickness, debris,/ lean lines and layers of scarred soil.
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Poem: Untitled 12/17/20
We are a million hours of time away from the boy who wrote poems and drew pictures — and the girl so excited to read them, to know him, to love him. Those children lost in the fogs of doing adulthood — The Serious Business of Living — That Delusion — Teaching them to hide…
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Poem: Point of View
There was a man who felt pity for me because I didn’t have
Why
did she take
the paper flowers
and the huge golden butterfly
inhabiting her head
(along with the stuffed
bird
in her ribcage)
and without saying a word
lay them out
on the wooden
floor?
~Nikos Engonopoulas, from Aubade.
Small Pieces of Being 