In the morning’s dew
or the evening’s breeze
in that crooked smile
or that beam of sunlight
in the midnight hour
romantic howl
or the bird that sings
lullaby love brings
in the essence of every crevice
not one thing unturned
because love, is a permeable thing
life comes, and life goes
life simply flows
our minds get stuck
our memories retract
intentional attention
mindless motivation
filtering through pores
penetrating forms
reminisce and grow
let memories crescendo
from vital innuendos
and the rest, simply observe
vagabond of words
homeless verbs
flowing through my nouns
enunciating sounds
temporary emotions
memories in motion
whispers in the night
perhaps seeping into daylight
letters are my canvas
birth and death, my inspiration
love and loss, my intervention
life oxygenation
multicolored stations
interpretations, proclamations, improvisations
innovations, art in words
Escritora. Tejedora de Historias. Tlahuelpuchi. Promotora Artesanal
where all emotions are cared for!
El sitio donde encontraras recetas para ayudarte en el "Maratón de la Dieta Vegetariana Cruda"
research education, academic writing, public engagement, funding, other eccentricities.
WordPress & Blogging tips, flash fiction, photography and lots more!
Science&Tech, Sociology, Education&Society, Biology, Human Capital, HR, HPT & Management, Neuro&Psychology All-in-One
READER - WRITER - CURATED RESOURCES - & MORE
Krakatoa Forever My Friend
"kindness is healing, writer & poet of sorts, "
Words of Arte
Come for storytime (stay for pics)
Solutions for ANY Parent - Welcome!
All is not quiet in the countryside
Poetry, music, creative writing and a desire to inspire....Isaiah 45:2-7 I will go before you and will level the mountains[a]; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. 3 I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord
Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller
"And if one day you see the stars disappearing, know only that my heart was amongst them." - My original poem.
what if poems could be symphonies, and people their orchestra?
Blogging about a world worth loving
The Grind 