http://www.johnpauldavis.org Some Poems I Wrote Mon, 12 May 2008 21:14:44 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en Terribly sorry, but the poems are taking a rest. Buy xanax online No perscription generic viagra Uk cheapest viagra Prescription order viagra online 10 min viagra Vicodin m360 Taking viagra or levitra as a booster for cialis On line viagra Side effects of xanax mylan Viagra alternative and woman Xanax anxiety Xanax side effect Meridia Discount phentermine How much weight will you lose on ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/offline/ You don't have to hear voices, hallucinate, or be clawed by unrelenting fear. You don't have to hole up in a belltower peering down through a sniper's scope or devise elaborate schemes to overthrow the government. You don't have to talk to yourself, steal things you don't need or drink yourself down to darkness. You just have to ask ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/crazy/ An opening or closing door, a footstep, the space between breaths, one quick laugh, child hoisted up in a strong arm, a measured gesture, force of water on its way to the ocean's openness, a clean silence, a flame or a darkness, a look upward, a nod, life leaned against hope like a child leaning into a tree's trunk as it climbs higher, higher, ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/name-poem-brooke/ The world is made of rock and breaks us when we stumble. We are born unseeing. We are born and borne by women who wear our birthing on their bodies still, who bled for us and cried and whose hands stung with years of work who stepped heavier as they walked, carrying us. Some woman worked a life ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/mothers-day/ You're the day's leftovers, yesterday's news, the last resort. Get used to it. Your blues, beautiful but merely a soundtrack for everything else more important in your audience's day-planner. You're the heart's graveyard shift, bench-warmer, friendship's purgatory. Take comfort that the hold music isn't easy listening; take the backseat, learn to find the harmonies in the ride's white noise as your heart tightens like ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/standby-mode/ "What's your dream," she asked me but it was the day after you told me so of course I could think of nothing else, and really, how, in a world like this one, could I dream for myself of success or comfort when the gears of the dark world turn against so many of us, when ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/the-dream/ at night your eyes sing and the fruit of their song is the universe of dreaming i fall into them, a white stone in deep water, wobbling down to the world's hot pulse where I am carried on the current of its blood through the thundering caverns of of its persistent heart. i'm swallowed by a whale, spat out on ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/at-night-your-eyes/ The smokers are out on the bench as always and the dogs lope in the shadow of the Emporium where inside someone's plunking on the piano and the old men sip their coffee and eat soup. The teenagers fan out and snap back together like starlings in flight as they loop down and back from the Sunrise to the gas ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/xenia-ave-love-song-2/ palindrome, ouroboros like the universe's first living thing, two breaths, one for sorrow, one for joy, a heartbeat, blink of an eye, a petition, small "a"s and "n"s crouched down behind the high walls of "h"s like a city under siege or churchgoers at prayer, lips puckered for a kiss, song of the blood singing in your ears as you ... http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/name-poem-hannah/ flip of a switch, sword singing as it's freed from stone, metronome, a charging bull's footsteps, a flirting wink, a guillotine's clean path through tobacco, key to a door in the house you haven't found yet, clink of ice cubes in a tumbler, the open heart, red hand that pulls you up from the day's defeat. http://www.johnpauldavis.org/poetry/name-poem-eric/