Tag Archives: Poetry

Is he sharp?

Posted on April 9, 2013 by billcastro

he’s sharp sharp as a razor whose blade no longer cleanly slices but gouges skin and scrapes across blemish leaving seeping wounds of pain that lingers and small pools of blood that quickly spread across the semi-stubbled face it leaves … Continue reading →

Posted in My Poems | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Midday Funk

Posted on April 8, 2013 by billcastro

I was trying to write while I had a few moments after lunch. I had to skip my walk today and had little energy. So,…the result. midday funk after lunch chicken slices hit the spot and now I sit on … Continue reading →

Posted in My Poems | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

The Song

Posted on April 7, 2013 by billcastro

This is a reflection of my friendships at work. I wrote this at my new desk on a Friday and found it in my notes. I recently moved from an office of ten people, where I’ve worked for 4 years, … Continue reading →

Posted in My Poems | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Words…

Posted on April 7, 2013 by billcastro

The words escape me, but I know I felt it sometime today When I feel it again I’ll be ready With words

Posted in My Poems | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Where are the words?

Posted on April 6, 2013 by billcastro

I’m discovering some things about myself during this adventure in writing. They’re not all new things, nor are they necessarily great revelations about anything significant (except, maybe, to me). It’s just that I am noticing and paying attention to my … Continue reading →

Posted in Breathing Words, Exhale, My Poems | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Awake!

Posted on April 6, 2013 by billcastro

And now I venture into different poetic styles, I tried to write a haiku earlier (Is it Spring yet?), and now I attempt to capture my morning in a cinquain ala Adelaide Crapsey. What do you think? Morning’s Easy silence Prepares … Continue reading →

Posted in My Poems | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Morning O’s

Posted on April 5, 2013 by billcastro

a box, a bowl, a spoon, a mug a kitchen scale in the wings water heating on the stove with anticipation sings hot coffee, milk on cheerios how I love those little rings simple joys to start my day prepare … Continue reading →

Posted in My Poems | Tagged , , | Leave a comment