Okay, Papers shuffle then shake Arms go to liquid Lip is gnawed Okay, A thousand eyes hidden behind red curtains Eyes watching, waiting, Judging Okay, Deep breathe Stand straight Chin up Shuffle Papers and remember one thing, Don’t fuck this up.
A sudden rush hits. Perhaps I’ve already reached the ground. But wind is cutting me with its knife edges, I’m still falling down. The clouds look blinding in the sky. Is this heaven that I see? If it is, is God doing this out of spite, When he knows Hell’s gates await for me? … Continue reading Falling
On the edge, I wait He steps forward gun raised high. We both fire, and fall.
The sun rises upon the morn, Igniting the sky red with the dawn. Crisp air of night thaws, The life slowly returning to the fields and moors. And with the fading of the night, Comes the neighbours, out in spite. To rudely waken me from my lumber, With the wretch sound of their lawnmower. … Continue reading Good Morning!
The desert was lifeless, a barren hellscape, where only bones made home. The wind howled, and the sand rose and danced. When the wind didn't return the sand danced again. They rose, intertwining together before falling under their own weight. The wind howled again enraged. They tried again, this time the wind taking the dust … Continue reading Desert Dance
Meagre thud at first. Then thundering, racing drum beats fill air, Until it falls quiet.
Synopsis: What if there's another side to Donald Trump? A sensitive, poetic side? Driven by this question, Rob Sears began combing The Donald's words for signs of poetry. What he found was a revelation. By simply taking the President Elect's tweets and transcripts, cutting them up and reordering them, he unearthed a trove of beautiful … Continue reading The Beautiful Poetry of Donald Trump by Rob Sears: Review