take me back to somewhere in the far away past, somewhere before the monsters came lurking in through the looking glass that shattered ‘neath the weight of so many eyes that bullied me into the blind corners of a darkness unrelenting, held captive in the watchful glares of their haunting hatred, where all I ever saw was…
New Poem ~ August 17th 2015
Darkness and Dirty Diners and the Midnight Host Serving Up Death as the Poetry Weeps Into Its Day Old Coffee, Cold as a Corpse These dense and hollow bones and bland flesh that you’ve gifted me are as empty as the silence within words without teeth, and limp as the thin blue veins sucked…
To bleed
is necessary in order to feel, to feed the soil of the soul that hungers for immortality or simply the hope, the idea that we are more than this these bones these ghosts sowing seeds of surrender inside of the light for a better understanding of the darkness that breeds, grows In deaths womb new…
The Haunted Poem
I don’t remember the exact moment I died or why my thoughts still wander beyond the grave or why my ghost cannot rest still desperately clawing postcards, letters and lonely verse into the dirt of my worm infested heart that feasts on the love and longings never read, never sent but only lost…
Kill The Messenger is now available
Kill The Messenger, an insomniac’s collection of darkness, defiance, questioning and counting losses, dissecting dreams, battling depression and the memories that sting like madness, like rage that leaves deep wounds in the heart of love marred by the scars lingering like bitter obsessions, like hope, like sorrow waking to survival, life in spite of the…
December’s Ghost
as I enter the small death of winter, slip into the darkness of its aging, aching skin I find that those memories of long ago days remain, lingering still, somewhere in the shadowy corners of these dust covered dreams buried where my darkest secrets are kept in the growing distances I keep as close…
Ghost Children and the Haunted River
Tiny creatures, eerie and child like visit me in the nights I am sleepless playing games of hide and seek under my eyelids where in half dreams I see them watching with their over sized heads the shape of rotting melons and their sunken in eyes, hard, endless dark pits of decaying innocence taunting me…
Time of Death
slipping into the slow rot of a cadaver’s skin laid out on a cold gurney I am dreaming of lost and forgotten journeys trapped in the morgue of my own thoughts traveling between worlds back and forth to and from the nowhere nothingness of places where the nothingness never ends unable to wake though…
