A lamp on a room,
with a switch, turns the lights on...

If only I could write a sonnet, sigh
perhaps, my thoughts could get well organized...

I.
"I feel hungry,&quot...

So windy are the days when autumn comes
that even some leaves that once fell with...

Someone once asked, why do you write?
I replied, “because I need to let it out...

In the village of Heydon,
a civil parish of Norfolk, England...

It is through you, my beloved, poetry
that I have found a universe...

Thinking, thinking...
The clock is ticking...

At night I dream of suns so bright
Of flowers wilting up with fright...

It’s not you
it’s her hips...

Inside a car, with windows up,
A doll with braided hair, sits...

Everyday,
I usually walk in rhythm with my thoughts...