Never Here

Art by Barbara Chapman ⊗ Poetry by Tempest BrewEye of the Storm'

this is the shrine

to never here

the empty seat

leaving me with my

empty thoughts

and glass of wine,

this is the church of

go fuck yourself

except I never said

that and it happened


'Peaceful Change'


I’m watching a movie

about this little

kid that just needs,

like a blue angel

standing next to him

and I want that angel

standing next to me.

I want that angel in

traffic and when I’m

on a blind date and

with me now on the

couch or better yet

cleaning my apartment

Inner Vision'

The Appalachian Poet

down home

and dusty with a twang

to the syllable,

they are string and harp

people, sing

on the front porch people,

write a fucking poem

about leaves people,

drink from a spring


die from a bacteria


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