Day's pass nothing lasts
what’s tomorrow but another
task, too distracted to stop to
ask who are we behind the mask.
What is truth when honesty does not
suit the unspoken mind can be
nasty and unkind, we forge forward
without reason to rewind.
Who we are may have been left
behind, is it the middle ground
where you can be found or are you
a beacon emitting echoes of
scandalous transgressions.

Your beauty beyond comprehension
bleeds from Azimuth to the stars
tender petals frozen in blue light
pique at the dawn in delight

As your fingers glide
smoothing air soft fingers
through colours poured to dye
and paint a Monet of illusion

Crossing my eyes on southern stars
receding from the night,
bereft, hopelessness my plight 
the loss again of my habitat 

The fondly brittle white petals
lay across my naked breasts
nipples harden at hot tongues end
as hands frame the ribs of Adam

Atoms spat me to life
just like that
the clink of bottles and rattled voices
on the din of the flimsy plywood painted green
Smoke and bad dreams to the rafters
ruckus and broken screens
Like my fathers car ploughed the dirt roads
to hell or home
I found the way

DIFFERENT ROADS

Life is movement and change
and nothing is ever the same;
for the worse or for the better.
one finds a different way
and rejoices in the finding;
the other is left behind crying
trying to understand the nature of loss
and the pain of ending.

Sanity’s Madness

Reflections of darkness invade the eye
limitless worlds of pain
walking through minefields of punji sticks
shedding your blood like rain

crying the tears of a thousand souls
killing a thousand more
crawling through jungles of tortured green
your eyes never knew before

If there is a fault in this life its a lack, of time, as I drift towards an enivetable conclusion to my story, this ravaging path of pain I crawl each night is just a piece of the encyclopedia of me, looking back the lines blur, knowing what I'll never do or see tears at the fabric of my being, those foolish little girl dreams are slowly fading into the black and I grieve for what should have been and brooding I've made an art of silent sadness, my hamartia is remembrance not mine but of me.

Orange pips.
Old brick.
I’m not insane
no matter what they say.
I ain’t been nuts a single day.
DW40.
Doorknob.
I've been trapped here quite a while,
but let me tell you of my style
and how the gods have made me serve their will.
Alters.
Scripture.
I read these books you see,
the best.
Idea books. Not like the rest.
Pig tails.
Edison.
You know how long it takes
to brick a wall while watch her shake?
Glad that’s done.
Darkness.
Waiting.

It's all about me
No self worth
without a "selfie"

Attention span
of a goldfish
No real journey
to enrich

I-Phone
I-Mac
I-ndivdual
See the connection?

A lonely girl she is
looking searching within,
she thought she found love,
but evil is what she beheld.

Desiring to feel complete
with this one, dark eyes, mysterious,
leathery flesh covers his scales.

Lake flowing, blustery waterfall,
sound of fast rushing water, sudsy white.

Blue skies meets ocean surface,
lost in the moment
she watches a sunset drop, grey skies.

The baby she carries ready to drop,
She remembers the man
of her dream.