I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
Solitary hound Have you been abandoned or Have you found freedom?
By D. J. Reddallabout a month ago in Poets
Otherwise, however, would the tarantulas have it. “Let it be very justice for the world to become full of the storms of our vengeance”—thus do they talk to one another.
Beware those who serve And protect your oppressors They enjoy their work
There are dimensions that I do not miss: The rolling eyes of grudging compromise The petty insults to a source of bliss The shredding of the polite, sweet disguise
Power sets you free All of your strangest yearnings Can become the law
By D. J. Reddall2 months ago in Poets
Thawing and freezing Lively talk and cold silence Everything becomes
Why did you turn the picture? Because, like many, I read from left to right When you look, you mustn't just see the picture
Softness is no synonym for weakness Wild, wailing wars are woven from whispers Quislings and quidnuncs spread subtle madness
Proceed with caution, for a day will come When the fragile world you've carefully made Will leave you alienated, lonesome
A representation of you, thinking About a paper womb, like your birthplace What will you put in there, incubating To take form, and earn applause or disgrace?
Abductions abroad Icy massacres at home Bedlam and ballrooms
Your feelings do not matter to winter It has neither pity nor compassion; No smile will its icy visage splinter Nor will your pleas a path through it fashion
