Butterfly visions Abound in the wrist - A flick of a tempest - A wick of a cyst A fiery sorceress Tempts and expands A wizened old mistress Unfolds her worn hands A child underneath A girl yet unborn A teenager Sullen and stricken with scorn All of these women Are here with me now …

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Vessel of ‘Me’

Cringing in blackness – Greed of the seed I don’t want to enchant These things that I need. Forsaken souls parted, Drifting afloat Aloft of the carcass Missing the boat. What if our vision Is only a ruse? A giant game started Only to bruise? Happenchance meetings Run wholly amuck, Heart strings strewn all around …

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Mindless galaxies triumph by Locking mechanisms, each in stride Leaving by the wayside, knock The pocks of craters, grateful stock. Sinking to my knees and then Putting bygones at the end Crass, brass, renegades pass, Not really listening to the grass. Meet me here, again and now, Meet me there within the bow.


Breathing, misty, Into light Yearning for much more, Despite. Be here now, Walk the line Never straying Down the spine. Follow footsteps That you know They are there before you, In the snow. Do not question Your own heart For that was there Before the start.

Within (the heart)

Glittering sparks, glistening time, Setting forth intention in rhyme. Falling suns and perfect moons, Sitting princes with harpoons. Hoping for the moment, ripe Seeking hardship, writing type. Fortunes wait in stiller tides, Myriad minds are making strides. Tied to the sun rays, moon beams, stars, Traveling space to far flung scars. Shooting back – arms …

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Words are always following me. They hang above, trailing me wherever I go. Constantly composing, re-forming, re-stating. Once I have a moment of peace or silence, they flood me like the deluge…. An onslaught of compositions, essays, poetry, and random statements. I am used to this constant internal narrative. It’s been there for me all …

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Breaking bread in utmost haste Singing soldiers, making paste Sought amongst the gravel ruins Partial maladies seek cocoons. Casting nets both wide and vast Reeling in the fishes fast Cranking, beating, Flesh and bone I can’t see past the hues and tone. Fast forward through The muck and dew, Slowing down now, Breathe. Anew.