Michael_Angelo

Joined February 2023

0 stories

Bio

I live and work in Canada and I've had a love of poetry and story making since I was a child. With age, I have only taken on more life experience to draw from. I have been and lived in this country from coast to coast.

Stories (14/0)

Limes or ludicrous.
Pursed lips smack and Citrus pucker, I wish I could get that mother tucker, When life gives you lemons, sugar tastes sweet,
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
Ontological Beliefs.
I do not disrespect the personal beliefs or gnosis of others, I instead simply use rational cautionary thought, when discerning what is possible and what is illogical. I implore you to do the same when reading my works.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Fiction
What is real?
Cogs of a different clock, which are sealed away and locked, here the arms and sand, come from a far-off distant land, there is no near there is no high,
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
Lesser of confessions
In a mess I digress. Self abused and confused. Dismal chance of romance. I indulge and divulge . pass on hate to relate.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
The L.A. Train
Had ye seen with these eyes, what puzzles do make the wander cry, in the measures, as time danced at elbows length, what bizarre passages are these,
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
The Queen
Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Walking the streets of Vancouver, I looked overhead at the red-blushing tone. Was it due to the orange glowing street lamps? No, I didn’t think so.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Fiction
Love Tempo
The riff passes through the eye, and the needle is the song. Your heart beats now to the rhythm of a drum. The bass plays low yet tensions climb high.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
Wasn't There
There was a man, There was a man, There was a man who was not there, He was here before but now he’s no where. He was here today but gone away.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
Clay Hearts
A Game of sorted hands we all assume to play. The things with words we cannot say. Bonds of the Heart we mold as clay.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
Child's play
In an open grove there sat a man and a boy, The man stood up and set down his toys. where are you going? asked the boy.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
Blood Laws
Visceral serenity, The copper scented remedy, That clots and flows within. Beneath the chest plate, What pumps and palpitates,
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets
TACKING AGAINST
In calmer seas There swept a breeze, That lingered of tomorrow. Wept are the tears of Yesterday’s fears. Storm froth Forth; The now.
By Michael_Angeloabout a year ago in Poets

Michael_Angelo

Bio

Stories .css-19zxm0z-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(14/0)

Limes or ludicrous.

Ontological Beliefs.

What is real?

Lesser of confessions

The L.A. Train

The Queen

Love Tempo

Wasn't There

Clay Hearts

Child's play

Blood Laws

TACKING AGAINST

Stories (14/0)