The Hours are Foul Posted byJames J JacksonMay 8, 2014May 8, 2014Posted inart, Authors, Blogging, Change, commentary, Culture, Death, Empathy, Future, Gonzo, History, Hope, identity, Justice, Knowledge, literature, Love, Marijuana, Marxism, Mindfulness, Music, Nature, Peace, philosophy, Poem, Poems, Poet, poetry, Poets, Politics, Psychedelic, Revolution, Romance, self expression, Sex, Sexuality, short stories, short story, Society, stream of consciousness, Time, Uncategorized, Writers, WritingTags:art, Authors, Emotion, free your mind, Hell, love, night, Peace of Mind, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, self expression, Time, Writers, writing The hours are foul. The sun sets. I must be gone from this hell, and off to a place of rest. So I bid thee adieu, and move on to the night anew. 7/27/10 Share this:Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Published by James J Jackson I'm a poet from California. View more posts