Perspective Jon Hillenbrand, May 27, 2010December 30, 2015 This is a poem I wrote about how inspired to write I feel whenever I’m out running at night. Usually I think of a lot of things to write, but then I start to forget everything as fatigue sets in. Quick, run inside The words will hide Cuz’ words don’t fear Tip of the spear The dream’s not real Dreamers don’t feel So run tonight And see the flight Of angels high Above the sky Calm wings do glide And match my stride Look down with hope Look down and gloat See days like sand It’s in my hand Tread through the worst Clouds black and burst Run Spartan skin Wind chills my sin Look down and pray Run for today Thoughts with me dwell Sand fills my well Run with their weight Concentrate Poetry angelsforgettingnightphotographyPoetryrunning
Poetry Crystallized Porcelain January 27, 2019January 27, 2019 Crystallized porcelain alights on the window of the poet, waiting for him to notice. He watches as the sun melts her just enough to fall away and glide on the wind like a smoke. She turns, rises and falls like a bedroom breath, glittering through his life, a chaos of… Read More
Poetry The breakup February 7, 2009December 30, 2015 The blink of the stop light and the metronome of the wipers compete for control over the beat of my heart as I think of my final moments with her. I’m writing her features on my mind so I don’t forget everything important to me now. I feel her close… Read More
Poetry To sleep perchance to dream July 6, 2007December 30, 2015 I was walking on a city street that looked like it had been frosted with gray ash. All of the businesses were closed, their windows unwashed. I was looking toward a crowd of people who were heading in the same direction past me, homeless refugees pushing shopping carts full of… Read More