Search

Imperfect Poet

Poetry, short stories and other things.

Month

January 2016

overthinking

i stare into blank space

wondering when my thoughts will end

when time will become my friend

when my mind will be able to be

still

quiet

at peace with itself

no

of such things my mind knows

nothing

for I am constantly

staring into nothingness

wondering

overthinking

Advertisements

Hope

Tonight hope smells of wet tarmac

and never have I breathed air that smelled

as wonderful.

Tonight hope falls,

in drops,

onto my window

and never has the sound been more

delightful.

Tonight hope descends from the clouds

above,

blessing the thirsty ground

and extinguishing blazing fires

all around.

Tonight hope has come

to answer the prayers of the people

of Cape Town

and although hope might be bliss,

hope is falling.

Lost.

Anything can look

familiar

when you are trying

to convince yourself

that you are not

lost.

Observed beauty

An artist must not

trade the beauty

that he is able to observe

for that

which he is able to capture.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑