Peter Yowie Poetry
my voice hits the walls and my words shatter into a thousand pieces, I’m in the cocoon for months and years at a time, until the paper butterflies emerge. So purge yourself poet of the unnecessary urge to be famous, fame isn’t painless.
from St James Church last Sunday to coffee at a thousand blessings Cafe, it’s like the angels are showering me with blessings and I’d be a fool if I didn’t see it in my life, but I’m not a fool, I’m wise
everyday I read my poems I’m witness to them falling out the window and just smashing onto the ground into pieces, just like oneday I will. David bowies brother had schizophrenia and also fell out a window and smashed into pieces so who says it can’t happen to me
