Imagine, my dear John… How despite decomposition, your seeds inspired growth! Indeed, imagine there’s no heaven – stripped to core of love! Alas, flowers of redemption wither, when feeling trapped within four walls where shreds of hope are but lost.

Many have asked whence flow these words; meat of muther, I truly do not know. Prose to the writer is often catharsis of innermost being. Like worm to butterfly, we thrive on wingèd freedom of truth; creating beauty of matter

Dearest JonathanSon of Saul, So shall man search for MaryThroughoutALLDays of life Sharing vin of agèd id with many a soul in seed’ So shall open armed embrace weeping brotherSome will witness false convicting art u’knownOh’Never bridging difference ’twixt love

I’ve hesitated writing these words, at risk that any stumble… but fear I’d be dishonest withholding.  These past few years have deeply grieved the spirit, having me doubt all once held sacred. I’m referring to a faith shattered by family

A poet clings to life this night The quill too, cries I fear For Muse & Eye Of Parchment DRY ’Stead of ink A Tear

People keep warning how this crusade for broken souls will cost my own While I hear and respect all opinion, such often come from foreign perspectives, far removed from lived experience. I appreciate my story may be a jagged pill

At eleventh hour of a has-been life, the painted poet bows an ink-weary head in void ’twixt day and risen moon. Undeserving, ’tis here at crossroads of spear and fleshly side, our warrior falls hard of unrepented knee… sinner to

Does it ever get easier? Any Respite From anger From cancerous Tear Does it ever shift Or Drift A w a y Ill vexations Ahh’ The greyin’ cold I dwell not upon the theory For to wit’ Would ’come unhinged

Good people,  We’re entering uncharted waters, where shifts toward New World Order are inevitable.  Change will happen incrementally so as not to incite revolution – enforced in fashion customary to 3rd world countries.  As evidenced with non-essential services, closure of