Tag: Hiawatha’s Photographing
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Blank Verse Thing
There she stood with flag unfurling, watching o’er the battle’s ending– watching o’er the bloody ending– while the bodies piled below her. There he stood that misty morning, watching blood run from her country, watching hope run from her country, watching it from his own eyrie. There, the fallen ones did praise them, praise them…
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Rhythm and
The bow and scrape of a sycophant’s kiss The rend and tear of a psychopath’s hiss The hum and whine of a masochist’s bliss There cannot be anything better than this. * * * Joyful, joyful, burning heart sets this world and that apart demons, demons, waking up over flow the loving cup * *…