In winter’s depth,I walked broken streets.Empty pockets.Head full of hissing demons.Whiskey for warmth.Neon nights for company. Underneath the frostand frozen hearts.Underneath the lonelinessin shadowed rooms.Something small, powerful—a dim pulse, barely there, but consistent.A heat without a name. And these days?Well, I’m...

Dirt Shaman Of the dust and dirt – Born to: Hurt Ardent hardened Icy winds – Archers of The Arctic. All upon the heart Pulsating in The dark. Whispering flames of The art. Born to be A rocket. From the very Start. Of the Heart. The third eye That doesn’t lie Reading the pentacles of The oracles ***Cipher Poems ***

(To be recited in twilight, before extinguished candles and broken mirrors.)   I kneel before the god who never asked. I light a candle that was never wax. I speak the name that was never given. I offer truth wrapped in illusion.   You wear robes...