The Nighthawk's Poetry Corner

redemption, one day i will count the moonlit snowflakes that fell fleeting from your mouth and lovingly shape in a calamitous st orm my apology Sign in to see full entry.

Samurai branches try To emulate the little Birds that are slicing In the icewind's Grasp and the Chainsawspiderwebs Are their bold Adversaries that Distant corporations Have built upon Bluffing remarks Spat in the eye of Reason and the Battlefield of snowy Memories to be ably Continues to slip... Sign in to see full entry.

here, this is something you should keep: the shrinking blush of a dawn together mesmerized, as i no longer have need of a promise so beautifully broken Sign in to see full entry.

Torments are silent as Even the night'seye is Singing with no Profundity, but composing Melodies with every line And gesture intertwined, Still as he performs none Can bear the indivisible Delicacy of her influence And the ghosts of every Story are reanimated to Act out the definition Of arete and... Sign in to see full entry.

The lucid droplets on the final leaves Show knowledge luminous of summer's spire Yet savored as their late unveiling cleaves To still an archetype vers'd stars expire; And soon the guant snow-laden boughs limp low, Now trudging through the season's frost expanse Each flake a petal - genesis of slow... Sign in to see full entry.

sketches of buildings and small splashed lights a wet canvas before the sulking dawn why have i seen this so many times before? Sign in to see full entry.

how, when one [aesthete] butterfly admires her,(open), wings in the haze of a cherryblossom becoming Pink and Red in the Spring of a Wander (ing) Mind, can she close,, and disappear so quickly? Spring into her Winter Sign in to see full entry.

Single leaf, sun; Burn the dead-shell As it quickly falls- Its brothers, sisters Family has lost In the charring of Autumn; the mint cool as snow Anticipated revelation As big bear Sleeps in a butte- Cavern till Spring, Wet; dirty robins Sift through the mud banks: rivers cut through the land-dry As... Sign in to see full entry.

Broken souls and sunken Torments are silent as Even the night'seye turns Towards her with no Profundity, but to memorize Every line and gesture Intertwined, and the metropolitan Spine breaks because None can bear the unforgiven Anguish: the ghosts of Every story are still glowing For her... Sign in to see full entry.

The buses contain the Broken souls and sunken Dreams as outside each Face turns towards her Hands; touch weaves through To memorize them and the Metropolitan spine breaks Because each awakening Word contains unforgiven Anguish: those melodies still Glowing for her fascination, As inside each... Sign in to see full entry.