Words and Photo Copyright Debbie Berk 2017 Lost in love and the brightly colored darkness of it all bare and barely aware of the danger I surrender my softly bruised flesh to the beautiful brutally of an intoxicating touch sweet as death and my echoed breath caught in the swelling silence of a passing…
The Endless Hunger To Be Healed
“Blood is the secret color for all honest art is nothing more than an open wound and poetry, the infection it seeps” All photos used in this image are mine with the exception of the wolf (half) face.
The Cursed
Creative image created using the effects and images within the editing apps on my ipad Poem © Debbie Berk The Cursed The curse of blood the darkness of love a bitter soul I am the hardened heart of endless night forever growing old unable to quiet the curse too deep in my bones so deep…
Dark Valentine
My dark distant, melancholy dreamer raven on your shoulder and the night muse whispering in your ear as the moon beckons pick up your quill reach deep into the ghost of your longing, wake and break the spell of your enchanted sleepers open the scar, deep as the grave keeper of the heart and a never…
Wild Beauty
For my daughter I love the darkness and the storms in your eyes as well as the light, the rage of your untamed seasons, the wild wind within you and the calm of your more quiet days where there are only slow dreams to move through, to remember you after all the wars and all…
Remembering my dad today,
It’s hard to believe you’ve been gone eight years now. It’s true, you left me with a lot of scars and yet you could never fully kill the love I keep in my still mending heart for you……
Kill The Messenger is now available
Kill The Messenger, an insomniac’s collection of darkness, defiance, questioning and counting losses, dissecting dreams, battling depression and the memories that sting like madness, like rage that leaves deep wounds in the heart of love marred by the scars lingering like bitter obsessions, like hope, like sorrow waking to survival, life in spite of the…
Three Words
fall like delicate drops of blood from the raging wounds that corrupt as they soothe; A calming yet never tamed is the wild heart though caged in the screaming whispers of a shivering warmth for the lonely companionship of the comfortably disturbed always looking for that exit in the dark where love comes as a…
The Burning
Love is the ghost fire rising from the smoke of our burnt out desires, the shadow of a whisper that remembers our name returning hearts to flame ©Debbie Berk / 2/16/2015
The Poetic Flesh
I think of you, thoughts that touch me like the naked whispers of your poetic flesh I long to write my dreams upon ©Debbie Berk / 11/14/2014
