Poems by Walter Heineman
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Home
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| the magic tricks |
| the towel |
| theological understanding of miracles |
| history is |
| i no longer run |
| reliving reincarnation |
| the broken back of thought lost on the wheel |
| the fear of death |
| the untrained soul |
| we seem to need |
| questions about my salvation |
| to hear it |
| bridges |
| what is the difference |
| a true sensualist |
| before death |
| my personal protectress |
| to follow his breath |
| where storms break |
| rogue spiritualists |
| the in between |
| the real creation story |
| no flapping |
| there are difficulties in love |
| the breath of myth |
| galoshes |
| helium balloons |
| if you can forget |
| inner city nursing home |
| justifying romanticism to a pessimist |
| new age eternity investment |
| not afraid of death |
| only one answer |
| the faraway thing |
| after i called him a narcissist |
| argument with the dutch |
| august harvest |
| fork in the road |
| without shyness |
| cosmological denialism |
| the way i once did |
| of course |
| timing is fortune |
| breathing coach |
| but most of all |
| life line in the wrinkles |
| after falling asleep the universe begins |
| each night |
| eternity in the tourist trade |
| my goodness dear heart |
| reach to the heavens |
| shortens the autopsy |
| some relationships are not destined to last |
| until i asked |
| we are the outside edge |
| top of the wheel |
| a chance meeting |
| the final judgement interrogation |
| the trinity |
| good manners |
| folded easel in a brothel |
| bad boy tanka and haiku |
| a slow introduction |
| a vegetarian |
| afraid of its meaning |
| after his fall |
| better to have known |
| his first telescope |
| i am sure |
| i cannot imagine |
| is not hope |
| meeting for the first time |
| myth |
| one stone |
| synchronicity |
| the payoff of lucid dreaming |
| too old to remember |
| trophy hunger |
| unsettled |
| a thing between them |
| absolute desire |
| crayon calculations |
| enough |
| family farm |
| having gone |
| if you want to understand |
| in a normal way |
| laughing at me |
| nature take its course |
| no one gets to ask |
| no one is watching |
| no one understands |
| on the way there |
| one of us |
| served burnt toast |
| seventy years of waiting |
| useless |
| when it is no longer |
| yet another thing |
Back to home |
