Raissa Dassel
Bio
I have been a poet since my childhood. It peaked during my misunderstood teens and now again in my 50th year of life. It would be an honor to have people respond to my thoughts. I played the piano as a child, too. It is a beautiful life.
Stories (27/0)
Sleep
Sleep screeches at me like angry sirens waiting for their next victim. Oh, what a cacophonous sound! Your crystallized glare hurts me with its diamond appeal. Dew holds only the highest quality moments within her morning leaves; waiting for the next opportunity.
By Raissa Dassel3 years ago in Poets
I Wish
I wish you would just admit that you care. It is not your unintended indifference that is the problem. Ignorance has only so many watch guards. One was named Cerberus and he had three heads, I believe. He had nine sisters and brothers yet ran along the banks of the Styx, sad-eyed and alone. Let me in.
By Raissa Dassel3 years ago in Poets
My Idol Is Mom
Why can't we just live off of long Jolly Rancher flat, apple-sugary rectangles which gave us children the "gaming high" of today's young population? A time without cellular restrictions and a time teeming with a knowledge of Encyclopedias Brittanicas. Look up the mammals.
By Raissa Dassel3 years ago in Poets
My Neighbors
I send you two a shout out in our close, loving community here. My Mystic Haven here on Earth. You met in a noisy, clacking, and heavy bowling alley full of meaningful shouts all of those exquisite years ago. Whoa. Purple and blue marbled bowling balls returned with a story of their own. Returned with joy and promise in their metal house after being chucked down the waxy polished and shined floors. Gary had to fight off “so many other women”, HA!
By Raissa Dassel3 years ago in Poets
