Poetry is the ink where
                 silence bleeds into words

I spent uncounted hours sitting at the bow looking at the water and the sky, studying each wave, different from the last, seeing how it caught the light, the air, the wind; watching patterns, the sweep of it all, and letting it take me.  The sea.

Ya tengo bastantes problemas imaginarios como para sumarles problemas reales de amor no correspondido.

When we talk about others, we should be very careful to observe our motive—especially if we’re talking about a person who isn’t present.

Written By Steve Hagen

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