poetry

poetry

The house burned in the fire. Her house. Her prison of lies and of denial. Her American dream turned nightmare.”~Unbreakable Heart

The house burned in the fire. Her house. Her prison of lies and of denial. Her American dream turned nightmare.”~Unbreakable Heart

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

I am always trying to 'preserve' things by getting other people to read what I have written, and feel what I felt.

I am always trying to 'preserve' things by getting other people to read what I have written, and feel what I felt.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Poetry is not an art, it's a symptom.

Poetry is not an art, it's a symptom.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Poets find their voices when they articulate the wishes of the dead, especially those slain as sacrificial talismans to a larger frame of existence.

Poets find their voices when they articulate the wishes of the dead, especially those slain as sacrificial talismans to a larger frame of existence.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

And the testicles of the fathers hang down like old lace

And the testicles of the fathers hang down like old lace

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

once I trained for the Olympics but panic is not a sport

once I trained for the Olympics but panic is not a sport

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

if what is true brings us sorrow, / if what sorrow brings is truth

if what is true brings us sorrow, / if what sorrow brings is truth

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

My whole being is a dark chantthat will carry you perpetuating youto the dawn of eternal growths and blossomingsin this chant I sighed you, ohin this chant,I grafted you to the tree, to the water, to the fire.

My whole being is a dark chantthat will carry you perpetuating youto the dawn of eternal growths and blossomingsin this chant I sighed you, ohin this chant,I grafted you to the tree, to the water, to the fire.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Poetry will die when love and pain cease to exist.

Poetry will die when love and pain cease to exist.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

We are all poets, really.

We are all poets, really.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

something genuine like a mark in a toilet, graced with guts and gutted with grace

something genuine like a mark in a toilet, graced with guts and gutted with grace

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

My earliest poems appear almost skeletal to me now - it seems I've learned to add meat, muscle and a nice suit of clothes.

My earliest poems appear almost skeletal to me now - it seems I've learned to add meat, muscle and a nice suit of clothes.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

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