Bless the unloved children. they can always spot a good mom and dad over
Time spent surrounded by nature is where one may renew his soul, if he is so inclined.
falling stars Crystal ice God’s breath fogging glass pane
Pastels in nature in this field of weeds I cannot let go of it it is infused within my very bones
hand picked wood mirror should cut and split it will fall
As it rains I look out my window. I sit here now. looking. listening. warm inside.
animal friendship is true friendship. they always
what have we left in life when we lose sense of self? The ego chains our personalities. if we learn to simply be, we flow into the pool of consciousness of which we
Oh, God do I find you here? You must be close by, for I feel vibrations of nature’s beauty.
The rich and powerful, the good and evil, the lawmaker and
Welcome to the real ‘me’, Steven Humphreys. This page is a bird’s eye view into my background and what ‘drives’ me to write poetry, quotes and other ‘stuff’…
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The street poet’s faceless form roams walking sidewalks alleys in rhythm
speaking unheard grace worrisome pace time a waste eyes chaste
his rightfully unwritten story in sequence to unfolding rhymes his glory
walking standing and staring the unknown poet eats his empty fill alone
and solitude is his fare baring his soul sharing whispers and chills in cold
night air and trampled yellow flowers in morning light when over there
he gets the last word speaking his silent rant surviving another dreadfully
quiet night which is the only thing he rightfully earned in a peaceful zone no one else
with a solid roof over his head will ever understand that only the nothingness of
loneliness brings this unknown quiet roaming man a hardened wooden bench with a
custom made chiseled quote as his only comfort in the still of his sacred solitary night.