Most are untitled, so they’re often listed by first line. Thank you very much for reading my verses. -Nick
Latest poem: Razor's Kiss
Oh I have never loved the razor's kiss,
But a sharper childhood's crazed example
Wrote its lessons on adolescent wrists.
I'm what's left after the flames are trampled.
Is it rebirth for those who never lived;
Seemingly this ultimate weapon's curse
Is its dual-edged blade; between the ribs
The killing intellect is reimbursed.
Yet the fire of the mind ever rises.
Ashborn children may have been their own prey,
After so many daily demises
Perhaps falseness's dross was burned away.
I never loved the wounds of my feeling;
I still hate cuts, but I love the healing.
Last poem:
The little gift I have of tongue,
And a bit of literacy,
Pantomiming a sweet machine
That never more farfetched were flung.
The honey that is my body,
In the monument skull made full
For one esoteric instant,
Is the blood spilling from the bull.
Words have lost their magic power,
So it seems, when charged by passion.
How to fuse incantations, touch,
And identity? It's too much!
A place for my poems 