[tabby title="Poet Bio"] I wasted the love train more than once, most under the rain,and waited till midnight each time. I have no ticket or saved seat again from rolling my heart on the metal line. I gave up on...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] The heart twisted inside my rib cage by the frayed ones, still managing the tensionof hopeless love rage, that sort of love which starts as a tiny spark, complexion, face and becomes the flame that devourers anything...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] I used to love to play the old spice wars while you were still at work;far from the utensils for the disciplining, you didn't grow with a boyish lurk. I had my own kitchen politic and superstition,...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] “Springs first heartbeat honors winters last breath”- Angie Weiland-Crosby April became the funeral father’s song. The Spring of a taste’s mouth full of the shining sun.We recall the smell of incense and intense flowers mixed with dirt...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] A yard where the night never dies Somewhere upstream, follow the scent of lost lives. The silence eerie dawns the path,you’ll find a garden that I once warden with a pitch of faith, two seeds of polymath...