Poetry

"...The asylum doors are down and the lunatics are out...."

"...Behind masked eyes..."

"...you cannot compel a bruised person to heal quickly..."

"...lightning streaked eclipse on the edge of tomorrow..."

"...Does it have or can it have a soul?..."

"...I come from big-band jazz..."

"...this mask should not replace her face..."

In times of loss...

"...No shame in showing my love this way..."

"...This man worked for forty years..."

"...Somehow I know that tonight will end..."

"Two sets of Hoodies on display..."

"...such suffering as fire raged all around..."

"...sub-atomic particles, escaping to dance..."

"...Finding life in every act..."

"...It is our soul. Our present and future..."

Mark J. Mitchell has been a working poet for 50 years. He lives in San Francisco where he points out pretty things.

"...cold in absence of your laughter..."

"...our job is to communicate..."

"...all too unbelievable nightmare madness..."

"...we are the playwrights who nurture the words..."

"...the shadow of buildings in rank on each side of the bridge..."

"...your presence all about the room..."

"...i didn’t have much to my name..."

"...eclipses that all beings, anywhere, anytime experience..."

"...The snared brings the wine..."

"...sitting on the sand listening to the waves ease onto the shore..."

"...Today is the deadline..."

So hard to say goodbye...

"...the past faded into the beauty of your presence..."