Pungent Sound Journal of Pulp Poetry
Poetry and Commentary that Smells
A spiced-rum girl with ocean eyes big-bellied sailboats and osprey cries the climbing sun in full splendor but foolishly I did not surrender. I had promising places to be. My spiced-rum girl would wait for me. The osprey and big bellied boats gone all my assumptions of the future wrong pink fingers release a sinking sun. Girls with ocean eyes wait for no one. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
Artists & writers only exist because the world is not perfect.
The scars of my soul bleed through words in the form of poetry.
A Literary Notebook - Since 2007
Imagination, is the art that runs the world, in Reality and Dreams.
Every soul loves soul music
Craig Bingham
Live While You Can
A Portal To Another Green World
GALERIA DE L'AUTOR. Especialitzat en paisatges de Catalunya i Andorra. Retoc d'imatges i creativitat.
Showcasing Our Rich Culture
Wonktastic, wimblistic; wanderings, wonders.
Thoughts on art and language
Chi come la fenice può rinascere?
Poetry for the less discerning.
Ideas, opinion, tips, advice, inspiration, and motivation of daily life.
CGFMEDIA
Photographer in Stockholm, Sweden
Prime my subconscious, one hint at a time
Pungent Sound Journal of Pulp Poetry 
So true, and so beautifully captured in this poem. But perhaps raise your eyes, scan the horizon: a grey-eyed cloud, or a sparkling night sky might bring the warmth you need at this point in your life.*
*Note to self on opportunities lost. 😉
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Lovely! 💕
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Thanks, Harshi.
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I came back to read this again. Really lovely.
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Thanks very much, JeanMarie.
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