you are the mysterious fire at my finger tips - John Geddes
I am a bed of sparks you breathe upon and kindle - John Geddes
the heart aches through nights—the broken places of neglect - John Geddes
you cannot teach art—you cannot make a soul - John Geddes
December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory... - John Geddes
The only difference between you and a dream is I haven’t woken up with you - John Geddes
...I remember the oily smoke of a cigarette suspended in a shaft of sunlight - with you, everything was beautiful... - John Geddes
burnt by the sunof your mouth, I’m unable to speak or paint you with words - John Geddes
I will not exorcise you—I’d miss your fragrance, the soft tread of your step on the stair - John Geddes
I write small poems— the kind that fit on a postcard… and still can break your heart - John Geddes
...I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind... - John Geddes
all day long, one storm then another—and I take your hands like gentle flowers that blossom into awareness - John Geddes
you know the way of the wind in the night—the desolate alleys my soul takes - John Geddes
...everyone wants to be excited by something magical and wondrous - to be reminded of how they once saw the world ... - John Geddes
I am your stone of necessity calling up spirits from rain puddles—your Magus of words - John Geddes
the fragrance of pine resin is frankincense poured out—a balm of stars and snow and moonlit nights - John Geddes
yes, writing is mostly a dream, but angels visit in dreams - John Geddes
after life has broken you open, perhaps you may create art - John Geddes
...don't be afraid of going by a way you've never gone - that's the way we're all going... - John Geddes
You don’t read to exercise the mind but to take voyages - John Geddes
RedheadAll over the houseStrands of copper hairLike filaments from a cobwebCollect.If you and IWere ever to part— For months, perhaps years,I’d be combing out,Brushing or picking upStrands of significance,Traces of youIn my life - John Geddes
Your steady rain of words soaked me to the skin - John Geddes
...summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows... - John Geddes
...You won't age? I promise you this - your hands will go shiny and transparent and at the slightest bruise they'll bleed... - John Geddes
...I retreat into my fictional world where everything makes sense - but even there I can't even control what people do... - John Geddes
...Tolstoy said, happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story - then what does that make us?... - John Geddes
A heart never breaks in the same pattern of pieces - John Geddes
I think there are lovely sunsets in hell—and that’s where my desire for you is sending me - John Geddes
... here's what I believe - sometimes God has a Plan B... - John Geddes
There must always be a secret to be unwrapped at Christmas—that’s the rule - John Geddes
This will be a winter so desolate, only memory can fill the emptiness - John Geddes
when I see you, I see mystery - a pale moon's beauty behind a veil of cloud - John Geddes
suffering breaks us until there’s nothing left but gentleness - John Geddes
our hearts break, and take us out of relationships that are too painful for us - John Geddes
the struggle is not with others, but within us, to do what we are called to do - John Geddes
my soul has shadows – nooks and crannies where griefs, like cobwebs, collect - John Geddes
...there is no map of the soul because we make it up as we go... - John Geddes
...my novels are like life - I never know where they're going until I get to the end... - John Geddes
we compose our life in stories we tell ourselves - John Geddes
you are a ring tone on the phone I didn’t answer - John Geddes
I see you kneeling in church—stained only by colored windows - John Geddes
Light a campfire and everyone’s a storyteller - John Geddes
You can be taught to write – you can’t be taught to be an artist - John Geddes
put out the candles with your fire—I’m on fire - John Geddes