Poems from Typewriterwriter

Typewriterwriter's picture
I don't write about death because I want to die, I write about death because when death takes me I'd like to think that I am in the care of a wonderful friend. Writing is a language everyone can understand. Even when our words are confused and twisted, we find someone who translates perfectly. I speak for those who are scared and trapped and those whose voices have been stolen from them. God speaks through me and gives me strength to give to others. I will write until my end.
What loathsome things We humans effectuate! A rape in the alley- A murder in the street- Our minds be feeble. Our hearts be faint. ...
Dear Branches, Gnarled and twisted. Dear leavess, Brown and rotting, We give thanks to thee, Dear tree For through thee Our family lives...
The little ‘ole diner That used to rest on Main Once was the most happenin’ Place in the town. They played Elvis non-stop On their ‘ole...
You see me, but do you actually see?of course you don't.You're too busy to notice me.You've plugged your ears to my voiceand turned away...
Bugs. Bugs. Crawling in my skinMy nose is burningIt won't go away.BurningItchingStingingMy heart is racing BoomBoom Boom.Loud against my...

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