I’m fond of contemplation, curiosity, self awareness, imagination and strange things. I consider my style to be dark surrealism poetry, usually about the human condition, and often about love lost. Tragic, haunting, graphic, strange, heart-wrecking sorrow calls to me, and so; I write. I believe there is beauty in sorrow. I’ve lived it, seen it, felt it, know it. I hope that my words create a Universe of their own for you, full of visuals and contemplation.

I apologize if my blog has technical issues at times. I am new to formatting a blog. I edit and fix things as fast as possible. Is it just me, or could creating a site be a bit easier? It’s probably just me… Anyway, thank you for reading my words. I hope that you enjoy.


Perforated Peephole Proposing Possibilities

You were in the midst of your demons, stumbling drunk on confusion and rage
I had taken on tragedy, tied it up and put it in a cage
The sea in your eyes was crashing
Battering, bruising and foul
I was swept up into that miserable pain; Cyclone
Wondering what I was going to do now
You were the web spinner of discontent, flailing lament and chaos so savage it devoured its own meaning
I was an inkblot out of proportion, a lonely distortion, and despair drenched in so much blue, it leaked into my shadow
We fed each other our mysteries, murdered simple solutions trying to fit the pieces
Your nails, staples and razor wire heart didn’t speak in my tongue
But modern love bores me with its fraying before fully flourishing
And I knew who you were beneath the webs that you’d spun –
Beneath the fallout from betrayal, from the most selfish, cruelest deeds
That left you a cut, bled, empty scarecrow lying facedown in the witchweed…
It took a relentless, thousand mile wilderness trek with magnifying glass schematics
To recall those first breathy exposures that we left mildewing in the attic –
Those lips scorching new paths by the moons creamy illumination
That cast out archival wounds and tiers of paraffin woe, melting once again
Fire dance, flames that fly, shooting through a ferris wheel sky
I thought that we could, but now the only question is… Why?
Now with nowhere to belong
No lasting impression, despite dragging my shadow to every sunlit wall
And so the suffering… the corn rots on the stalks, sucked dry of its juices by the baking sun
As am I, wasting away, parched and brittle from drinking an illusion all wrapped up in prettiness
Spitting dirt, my bones shallow, disintegrating, falling into themselves, weeping… dust…
My heart feasting on brittle duplicities
Meanings have no meaning but we pile them up, create teetering monstrosities
Sorrow and tragedy speak in obsidian hues
I’ve never seen beautiful until you
I’ve never known lonely could soak into my bones
Leave me writhing, begging and screaming to be left alone
I breathe but yet can’t catch my breath
I wonder, am I awake or am I dreaming yet?
We were a wildfire storm that chewed up a lilac-frosted sky
And I’ll never regret what others will never understand
Your name a wistful memoir on my lips –
On the brink, like an hourglass sucking down sand
When I recall how we decapitated muse and utopia
Reckless and colliding like a magnitude 13
We notched fouls and madness, crashed and burned
Set flame to the laudanum after we doused it with gasoline
Thus this catastrophe that I have become –
I dream hopeless gasps instead of tender sighs
Wandering through a landscape of charred, lonely ruins

Blue swallowing love
Begging, what, my dear heart, were we thinking of?

Stillness of Grief

This stillness of grief
Like a soft veil caressing my skin
Comforts yet tears – shreds
What lies within
At times I claw
Try to find a way out of myself
Leaving more wounds inside
That have no sound to imply…
This stillness of grief –
Seems a very strange thing
No help from the Universe
No salve to calm the burn
The pain masked behind my eyes
Raining tears down my throat
Still can’t calm the fire –
Smoldering, sooty, rubbly – as I choke
No revision for these words
No voice to be heard
A soft place to land
A blessing and curse
Stealing my lonely breath
Demanding my spirit; acquiesce
As my fractured heart withers like time
My soul forgetting that it’s divine…

This disparagement of love
Cupids arms overwhelmed, exhausted with sorrow
And I; in my grief I dismiss my significance
If I had meaning, or enough meaning
Would this catacomb be a sacred resting place?

This stillness of grief
Is unlike in the past –
Where raging and wailing were thrown from me –
Through the night and the valley, down walls, over fences…
Unveiling my haunting with no recompenses
Now I lay torn and crumpled, like a leaf beneath a stone
Hope, a ghost – forlorn, dismissed, wandering without a home
Where love should be soft, where love should be sweet
Instead there are barbs, rusted wire gouging me
As my hurt creeps inside this twisted cage crushing my heart
The cherished faith that love abides busted apart
Raging tears form a sea where I wish I could drown
Get lost in this burnt landscape with its sorrow bleeding down
But there’s nowhere to hide, no great escape from loves wounds
Even death won’t end this agony much too soon
This stillness of grief at this moment defines me
It’s all I know, all I feel, all I am… All I see
Turned within, flowing through yet pushed down, deep into –
Where no one else could ever bear to be
Lost although I seek…
This stillness of grief

Bereaved Shadows

Spiral Steps Summon Shamanic Symbiosis

I took you to the keeper of secrets
Your webs spun in the ceiling corners, thick and heavy with bits of blood, bone, truth, lies and pain
Too late to forgive or forget monstrosities built on deceiving ground
There are no demons that can withstand your venom –
But there are demons that can crawl in your hell
Shaking destruction and death from their ratty hair
Spitting cynical vengeance from their empty-holed sockets
While their gnarled, sticky fingers scrape the ground into wounds –
Caverns deep and horrid, that weep years of disenchantment and abandonment
Slithering tongues that lick at bitter shadows, sucking down bile like candy
Beneath a cursing moon, churning with despondent love
There is no light falling here, to soften this dank, mossy wasteland
To caress its loss
Or the futile sacrifices
To slice through screaming, begging words, that litter the frozen ground like crumpled corpses
Anger and hate co-mingled in passionate syllables –
Built from blazing memories –
An inferno of screeching blades as they saw through breastbone
To mangle, eviscerate vein from heart
Spurting unspoiled sweetness onto crumbling headstones
Red-stained devotion turned to tears of tar
The dead don’t sleep here
Misery picks at bones
Emptiness swallows time and drowns it in a bloated belly –
A whirlpool where bereaved shadows howl
Wispy fingers reaching for their displaced afterlife
Charred misconceptions, bloodstained recollections, infested deceptions
Hissing through the trees –
A death rattle
A thousand limbs writhing, rejected by mercy
The dead don’t die here
Their shadows don’t speak of memories beneath this caustic lunar sea…Stillbirth
Despite words and gestures –
Fate is the fearful masses solace
Best buried and left untended, left to the curdled weeds –
No words harvested onto cold, smooth cement to worship its fallacy
No tears, no lust, no blood lost to this graveyard
Let its bones dry and crack
Wait for the full moon and I’ll meet you there where our madness
Will muddle those bitter fruits into sweet
We’ll drink until reckless and blind to plebeian, defective drivel
Smash our way through the acerbic crust of this suns bitter harvest
Lay naked on the flowery hillside spewing words of noetic soulfulness into the ashen atmosphere
Until our last breath gives up our hummingbird shadows
Shadows that speak