[tabby title="Poet Bio"] Unless the seed was buried, It was lifeless Unless the seed was planted, It was dead The seed did'nt want to be buried, The ground was cold and lonely But beneath the hard ground, The seed became...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] Catholic children learn early - church altars hold relics; shrivelled saints’ bones in boxes, fingers, jaws, toes. When I was a child I believed tight within statues were bodies, bones and flesh rotting, stone figures reclined over...

this week's writing prompt: "and he said: you pretty full of yourself ain’t chu" from Poem For A Lady Whose Voice I Like by Nikki Giovanni. 1 rule: SUBMIT YOUR BEST WORK use the form below to submit or click here...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] I'm so rarely happy, that once in a while, I find myself surprised, to catch myself a smile. It flutters in and out, so quick you'd never know, that joy had ever found a home, in a...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] each day nothing but a long trudge ahead in terrain that enters the senses with the decisiveness of poured water on achingly-dry ground here, just east of the namib no electronic stimuli no artificial flowers in this...