There was this woman whoI used to know.She wore cardigans andglasses, and she hada smile that wouldchill a penguin.She loved to build things.One gray winter night,she built a house ofdelusions.There were no mirrors,and everything wasplastic.The couch,the bedthe sex,the laughter,the...

Anchors slip away in a sea, calmed by nightly solitude.   A puff of wind, eases a bedroom shade open.   A flake of dust, drifts alone, gently on. 

What remains of my sun? Clouds, facades of the high skies, obscuring mirrored daystars of my eyes!   There toy are in my sky, whirling in tears in the wind. I want to reach up and grab hold of you.   I see the two searing-white pearls of...

The season of a broken heart is upon me.Heartsick, this burning pain roarswithin my stricken heart chambers.The budding of my youthful heart,my tempestuous squalls - the wildfire of my youth. A blooming summer heartglowing with affection in the light which I bask.An...

I am afraid it remains the truth,ever since my fraught youth,that I am an agent of the night,a provocateur of the sacred write. Sitting here with quill in hand,on a lifelong quest to understand,the rhythm within every rhyme,within lines thinner...