a series of notes, prose-poems
stories, bits of play & dialog
Aphorisms, epigrams, essays

Poems? Sure

There once was a kid who'd been hurt
As a result he became cold and curt
But he ran into someone
Who brightened his day like the sun
And stitched up the scars in his patch of dirt

He's feeling much better and in a better place
the negativity mostly has left his mind space
his smile returned
but he doesn't want to be burned
Because he doesn't want to go back to that place

So he's in a position he doesn't want to be in
Because he doesn't want his heart to cost him a friend
Should he play it to the vest
Should he go for broke and invest
Because this'll drive him around the bend

The skeletons that spiral
On the golden stair
    Twin devils headed
Down, down, down...

Sweet fires
To burn out their eyes

The skeletons that spin
On graveyard silk
    Seven hundred beady eyes
Staring, staring, staring...

They'll give you rainbows
That hold every hue
They'll give you greys and blues
From every bruise they can show

They'll give you a part
Of their dreams
They'll hand you a heart
That's tearing at the seams

They'll ask if you heard
The notes in their song
They'll ask if it's wrong
To share a world instead of a word

Silent snake,
hissing his venomous lies,
like flames they burn me inside,
and reduce me to ashes.

All those who fought with silence,
Used their words instead of violence,
Tattooed scriptures upon their thighs
Battled the lows with ballpoint highs,
Burn away the fracture pieces,
Iron on the tainted creases,
This purging was our way of survival,
Poet's own parables a secondhand bible,
This was love, this was hate, this was rage,
This was anything we could confess in midnight haze,
Dream out loud all you silent eyed fiends,
For this was nothing but the fuel of the machine