free verse poetry, approximately
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Tags: approximately
In reply to <a href="https://thetruthabouttigers.com/2025/02/09/all-the-ways-blue-can-be/comment-page-1/#comment-646">ben Alexander</a>. Thank you so much, David!
10.2.2025 00:19Comment on All the Ways Blue Can Be by Nick AllisonNick, I feel like this piece beautifully captures the profound language of gestures and glances. Your imagery flows naturally, making every subtle expression feel significant. Much love, <EM><strong>David
9.2.2025 20:12Comment on All the Ways Blue Can Be by ben AlexanderShe’s never been one for weighty words,but her expressions shine through with clarity,a language I’ve learned to readacross the room. Her smile sketches the degrees of joy,her shoulders measure the weight of weariness,her touch—a whisper of empathy.And her eyes—eyes that reflectall the ways blue can be—mirror shifting moods, fleeting thoughts,the quiet undercurrents of her heart. […]
9.2.2025 19:21All the Ways Blue Can BeA lot of people probably don’t know this,but the truth about tigers is—they don’t really mean to be rude. It’s not like they wake up thinking,This is the perfect time to ruin someone’s day. Sometimes, they’re just hungry,and we’re just not that fast. It can be hard, though,not to take it personally. © 2022 Nick […]
8.2.2025 21:55The Truth About Tigers[…] pier But still they linger, waiting their turnWhere once there was only black and white and secrets stitched in shadow Time passes and the shadows grow and universal dream-weavers, cry for the halcyon days, the jasmine […]
5.2.2025 17:52Comment on Language of Yesterday by Dreamers And Drunkards – 6th February 2025 – 1994everIn reply to <a href="https://thetruthabouttigers.com/2025/02/02/singing-for-strangers/comment-page-1/#comment-642">michaeljordahl</a>. Thank you, Michael!
2.2.2025 23:30Comment on Singing for Strangers by Nick AllisonVery nice! Wow
2.2.2025 20:53Comment on Singing for Strangers by michaeljordahlI met a house finch yesterday.Oddly enough,we were nowhere near a house. She sang me her song,weep-weep-sidderee-churr,and cocked her head,shot a side-eyed glance,as if to askwhether I approved. By the time I stopped debatingif it’s odd to talk to birds,and offered my compliment,she was gone— presumably flitting offto serenade someone less hesitantto heap praiseon songbirds […]
2.2.2025 17:48Singing for StrangersIn reply to <a href="https://thetruthabouttigers.com/2025/01/28/starspan/comment-page-1/#comment-640">Bartholomew Barker</a>. Thank you, Bartholomew!
1.2.2025 13:22Comment on Starspan by Nick Allison<!-- wp:paragraph --> <p>Nice one. I especially enjoyed the celestial second stanza.</p> <!-- /wp:paragraph -->
29.1.2025 02:01Comment on Starspan by Bartholomew BarkerThe yew leans into her thousand years,while the moon moth burns swiftly througha handful of days. Eight decades feel fair,if spent well, we tell ourselves. Antares yawns across another eonand winks at Sirius, grown wearyof our fragile mathand wistful speculation.
28.1.2025 16:58StarspanIn reply to <a href="https://thetruthabouttigers.com/2025/01/08/from-the-window-seat-of-a-downtown-coffee-shop-on-a-cold-january-morning/comment-page-1/#comment-636">Michele Lee</a>. Thank you for your kind words, Michele :)
9.1.2025 14:33Comment on From the Window Seat of a Downtown Cafe on a Cold Tuesday Morning in January by Nick AllisonIn reply to <a href="https://thetruthabouttigers.com/2025/01/08/from-the-window-seat-of-a-downtown-coffee-shop-on-a-cold-january-morning/comment-page-1/#comment-637">Lia</a>. Thank you, Lia! I always appreciate your feedback and support <3
9.1.2025 14:32Comment on From the Window Seat of a Downtown Cafe on a Cold Tuesday Morning in January by Nick AllisonLove the peaceful mindfulness of this poem's vibe. It "brushes the edge of melancholy / yet never settles there." Beautiful description of sky! <33
9.1.2025 03:31Comment on From the Window Seat of a Downtown Cafe on a Cold Tuesday Morning in January by LiaThe newborn winter sky, driftwood-gray and heavy with mist,fosters a strange kind of contentment—a feeling that brushesthe edge of melancholyyet never settles there. To call this weather badfeels like a failure of perspective.It simply is.So I lean into it,letting it presssomewhere beneath my ribcage. The porcelain mugcontrasts with mud-brown coffee;its aroma mingles softlywith incenseand muted conversation. Heat […]
8.1.2025 19:47From the Window Seat of a Downtown Cafe on a Cold Tuesday Morning in JanuaryI thought of you then,in those days of forgetting,your eyes stealing from the moon,dagger-deep but drawn with fatigue.The phantoms of time promise plans too lofty to keep.
3.1.2025 05:13ForgettingA quiet door opens,as another closes.The last breath of the yearfeels much like the first. This next revolution greetedwith mindful gratitude,an earth-bound walk.When feet brush the path,it sounds like surrender. A song shared with a winter bird,a nod passed to a stranger—just for a moment,before momentum carries forward. We smile,pay our respects to impermanence.And make […]
31.12.2024 20:23Make Friends with the Fallen Leaves (Happy New Year)I caught myself thinkingabout what I’d be like as an old man—then saw the folly in assumingthose years will ever arrive. There’s no use in nostalgic guesswork,no refuge in what remains in the balance.Both daydreams dissolveunder the lens of what is. To traffic in futuresthat never arriveis to trace the road to suffering. We live […]
23.12.2024 19:42Nostalgic GuessworkA creeping meanness claws across the decade,no longer content to lingerat the margins,teeth gnawing the hairline supportsthat once held courtesy in place. Soft civility drowns—its gentle pleas severedagainst the razor-brink of thin bluster,each utterance a bright bladewinking beneath the footlights. Palm-sized portals grant absolution—thumb-swiped loops spinninglike small, devouring storms.A sweetness laced in venomnourishes hollow appetites. […]
23.12.2024 06:09The Noise Between UsI see myself in the old woman at the next table in the café. Her face carved with worry and wisdom, her hand quivers as she stirs her coffee. I see myself in the angry teen at the bus stop, his daily journey to anxiety. Oily skin branded with acne and angst, a crossroads of ambition and uncertainty. I see myself in the young mother, cradling an infant in […]
6.12.2024 14:03I See Myself