Are human bodies just flesh and bones?
Or pieces of art composed of atomic cyclones?
With nitrogen, hydrogen, calcium, and potassium, our bodies consist of water and magnesium.
We are magnificent souls created by flames, Masquerading as people with human names.

23 36

We never found the
in anatomy class
Our instructor told us
dissections wouldn’t have them
after our subjects had passed

I made it my business
to see and extract a soul
I needed expendable bodies
to accomplish my goal

I’m in prison
Society
doesn’t share
my vision

5 16

New day
Grown I expect from
A soul -
Pleasant and unassuming

3 27

mates if I possessed
one left when I died
last time came 'n ghosted
first winter brings the sun
mate

3 22

From the fall into starfire
Pale as a new fashioned corn;
Light as the lava with the air,
twists shadow to fabric tear; moon drop
The angels' shrieks with heavy delight
Laid her on these crystalline hands

1 9

the dark and
hide

behind feelings
raw and sore

they are an from a time before

when flower fields were located


of my heart

and you
were the remedy from the very start


43 135

I am held close
In the palm of your hand
In the pocket of your heart.
Help me remember you
Every morning
Every night
How you dearly love me
And gave your life.
Oh, Love, my insanity takes me!
Let me not forget!

3 13

Under the sun
The wind gathers the sand in dunes
memories always chasing - a pack of hungry dogs!
a remnant of mother’s smile, the echo of an infant’s cry,
and your hand on my forehead, love.
Oh, describing life is easier than living it!

20 81

At a certain age
It all starts to wander
And it's warmer there.

0 14

A weekend down South,
and editing the novel,
In between drinking,
horses on television,
my resolve sorely tested.




5 21

The light of the morning cast its curse on my face as the bedroom door slowly opened. I knew I would die in bed, but I never expected that it would be like this. There is no justice in the underworld of the undead.

5 37

The disturbing part of learning to cast the candle spell was the bit where your hand turned into wax. Some of the class had real difficulty making their fingers return to some semblance of normality.

2 17

On a in no one’s
I hang
no voice to speak my mind
face twisted
confirmed
on hiatus in hospital
back now
heart beating again!



1 18

My doesn't do much
Just sits there
Chewing her tongue

Sneers when I enter the room
Claps when I leave
Slung over the couch like a dead coat
Watching TV and clearing her throat
Like a sloth in a cage
Rolling her eyes and filling my page

My muse doesn't do much

7 37

Pink, orange, and bluish hues
Set best behind natural views
Through mountainous forests, it is suffused
Beach-goers flock, endlessly amused
Painters try to replicate, enthused
I've even seen it framed in nice tattoos
The sunset is a daily, timeless

6 50

For the longest time I couldn’t paint
Then I met a woman who I grew to love very dearly
She was the mother/sister/aunt I always needed
At the base of at least six of my paintings is the sacred muse
Love is

3 32

Words ascribe
Best not trap them
Be stingy & hide
Or brainwash
Words are seeds meant to carry
Upon winds of projection
Taking root in lives
Sadly some still slice scars
Yet whitewashed history
Erases Vanishing Voices Of Tribes
Colonialism Creates Invisibility

47 237

Later is an arrogant little driver
Lummox and the taxi made it so

2 11

Come sit with me Perseus,tell me the news,how are the gods on Olympus these days & the people of Athens.We have time before Hercules & Chiron return from their hutting expedition.All is well queen of the people of the flatlands.I have good news of Pegasus the winged horse

2 3