I'm a poet and an aspiring novelist from El Dorado, AR.
Dear Redbird, I've been looking to the horizon yearning to soar beside you. But alas the fierce winds push against me, delaying the course of our reunion.
By Kourtney Risher4 years ago in Poets
She's not there. She's the shadow of the spider that crawls at the corner of the wall at night, She's not there. She's the whisper of the wind through the window cracks when you can't sleep.
By Kourtney Risher5 years ago in Poets
A blonde woman in a white sundress stands at a wooded grave. Here lies Frederick Bartebly. Born October 13, 1980. Died December 30, 2010.
He didn't believe in angels but a beautiful creature with golden hair, sapphire eyes, and soft cream skin made him think twice.
Dominic can see his wedding day when he closes his eyes. The skies are grey and mist fills the air. He is wearing a black tuxedo and the dress of his love matches color.
By Kourtney Risher6 years ago in Poets
She was a delightful fantasy that burned in him as bright as her phoenix red hair. She was an elegant balance of beautiful and sultry,
It crawls out of the darkness and gazes at you with its dead white eyes. It licks its lips and grins at you with razor-sharp teeth.
Somewhere, there is love. It is buried beneath a graveyard of dreams. It can be found under the shattered pieces of ego. There is love hidden in the shrouds of an uncertain tomorrow
I. On the corner of Hope and Providence, I had a vision: A white blur, pale as a spectre and fuzzy like a distant dream.
He looks outside of his parlor window on a stormy April night. The air is misty and the rainfall is picking up at a staggering rate.
Sometimes it's the love you desire to forget but cannot that haunts you in the night. It can sneak up on you least expect it,
There are walking corpses among us. Their hearts beat as their souls die a little every day. Lost, the only direction they know is the path to their graves.