# #betrayal #life #forgivness #suffering #sadness #pain #mistakes #madness #poetry love

Dear Lord

Each of us goes through things in the Christian life.

Some tests are pleasant others make you sick to your stomach.

The trick is to never lose hope of the Cross.

See the battle is the Lord's we are just coming along for the ride.


There will be moments of depression, sadness & heart ache.

Just remember you are the vine & he is the branch he'd love you to get through it if you just give him the chance.

To take part in the heavenly dance.

Many among us sleep, sick & tired.

Yet be ever more vigilant because your enemy will try to get you down on every point & level.

Resist Satan & draw near to God.


There will be days when you feel like giving up yet hold on.

There is a choir of angels in heaven cheering you on.

Never relent to ever give up the fight of faith.

Draw near to God & he will draw near to you.

In the end, we will lay our crowns at the feet of Jesus in heaven. Never give up!

Monet In Pink

Monet In Pink

Void of explosive wires spread one accord explode
vanquished to its terms explode charm well missed
light through the load well spent affair
long is for near mercy explode it's faint
true heart rehearsal quit the furnishing;
the poetry...explode with commodity...
the sky is dull side ways pant with a cloth
the train signals a hearty applause
neat tide...

personification to plunge in an escape
Monet in pink closed in cement
rapture is for lovers...
climax bellow the bricks wedge in sticks
burdened with an excursion
hole with sneakers
the smell of creatures

flood the ancient bar
giving dull nature in a car
breath deep...breath deep..stand still & repeat

Wandering Nomadic Tribe (Nightmare)

Wandering Nomadic Tribe (Nightmare)

space hallow curtain this is one thing is for certain

space for certain why you winking stop your drinking

slight of hand rest in the journey for what was in store

bringing slight of hand a reason;

flowing..judging & flirting

Daddy's on Carters swing

love in a widows peak

bask in the vast magic from above

in your inner search like a bird on its perch

organic, ceramic & special...

Tossing and turning you know whats in flight

never give up on the fight

seeing you doubt in double tonight

shaped through colored glass no primitive path

kiss me...trust you see...a bargain you bask

Wandering nomadic tribe there sits an Ass

pleasant dreams high healed sleeve

chase back the flight a dew or die

Brave New Touch

Brave New Touch


always the curtain

Liz T...& Charles Burton,

cold clap in the middle

sift through the burned

learn to turn a light

back in the business

shatter the leaves

clear as a screen

learn to shoulder

crazy new order

wait your turn over...

to release a solemn tune

belly on the flops

this homeboy do think a lot

gone away too soon cut

gone away too soon

gone are the days

used to frolic in a haze

pay attention to the noise

look at...

look at...

clouds & chipmunks
underneath it all we are after the same thing
poetry..the stuff deep inside of me
burning in anguish frozen pee
closet breath with mothball scent
here I hide between the frozen chew
look at my elbow parked outside my window
order form...

look at the magazine soft porn inside
the billows be your guide
soft hand to speak
stand still & repeat
Led Zepplin song remains the same
a grocery date with Stop & Shop's,"Marty"...

a token of well gestures
Pee Wee Hermon jerking off in the bathroom
although widows peak summoned to the barn door swing
minutes to breath with sex on the beach

God is still in my heart through a latent guide
thoughts of underware..
come as good as it gets..
Major Jackson & Louise Gluck,
spring down with action
pillows with cashmere attire;
I sip on the magic potion
away from the casino tight token
breath in the sweet tense,

John Ashbery dead at 90
a slight riddle in the sand verticle
a double work slight of hand...
Rooster gay friend
he will be missed in another pardon kiss
people, faces & traces

Oceanic Flame

Oceanic Flame

Triumphant Surgeon

tossed beneath the crowd having a robotic clown full force to reach
crowds a blaze encountered a well known stretch hear the vault slam
shadows beckon in the wet window a horse came dwarf below its nest
Triumpant surgeon on my neck horrific known a glass well vent you see
shattered dream in plot of delicious ice cream a Maxwell scream freedom ring
turn the noise from each violent strain stand still in the frame pillows gain
browse through distant shattered glass full force then to react

fly through the closet the surgeon is well aware wanting to me draw near
the oceanic flame borrowed in it's chord of a smile still know all the great while

Zombie Torch

utmost desire coming down to the midnight wire
shooting desire on the tapestry to hope to taste
love is sin heelp to begin coffee ring cyclone sting
beggar trace make no mistake patterns to help see the sun
rainbow when evening falls she'll come to me soft and warm to touch the face
we believe we touch the rainbow right away to the sun on ships of wonder
lives not unreal we'll count the door...,

Dio left to meet the tempo here we go
outside when winds collide,
we near believe we shall touch the rainbow
the lights not the wheel from shades made of steal count the door

venture through a haze...,
there's a distant light it's all right
sail above the sky
shadows flock the sane debris

love is taunt to you peace to the world take you to the star
Rainbow slow to fountain
close the door to reality
best fits the zombie clock

Color Of Blood

there is a strange list

to there wet ranger of clouds

stroking our fields;

heavy pheasants were

high in ther wind, high over

currernt shrubs, unknown grain


Old trees moan like a boat,

were all their branches witch arms

They toss worn gloves at us

as if we are ready to be


shoverlerd over with dirt

Pulling damp bedding 

from clips, running

great straw baskets to ther house,


Silvere-berllierd grasses lift

their cat fur, could spit

blotching us wer hurrey

Veins of wind light, we see


their color of blood


for an hour we lean on north walls

wearing blankets, ther house underwater

we see ourselves circler through

streets, gripping shingles 

caught in ther highest breanchers

rising from their water, fish claws,

But all this wind

hits ther barelery field and dies








Author's Notes/Comments: