As the cleaner’s eye

Of a bloodied time

Ran down the barricade.  

I am struck by disguise

Shrowding artistic supplies

Left to be displayed.


Dear Brave Souls

Dear Brave souls,


This is to every woman, man, child, standing today against a wave of hatred and separation. You are the forefront of an age-old battle, given down through the generations; one of power and domination. Know that progression is where we find a brighter future. Know that we are stronger together. Know that we fight for each other unselfishly, rather than for personal power. Unity can defeat greed. And if we stay together, if we stay smart we will stay stronger than those who wish to separate the progress we have made from the future we are building. Do not let those who look to the cruelty of history for their inspiration shake your resolve to do what you know to be right. Stand together and keep each other safe.  With much love.


One of seven billion.

Ghost School

I sit in an empty room of my alma mater.
Listening to the soft shuffling of tired feet.
Parents late to see son or daughter.
Some working after learnings complete.

The town of education, a city in the day
And slowly life ebbs off of its street
Pert students itching to get away
Curt to grab paper and stretch feet.

I listen to the ghosts of my learning.
Invisible hands, to answer deaf questions
Ebbs of performances fabricating
Bits and snips of silent lessons.

These are the halls I’ve left behind.
Some days I miss their shelter
Visages still remain of our grind.
Sweet simplistic blissful succor.

My Cup.

Everytime I drink I wonder,
Will this be the last cup?

I ask myself, if one more is ok?

The answer is yes. Always yes.

I fill my cup with smiles.

Spread them to my friends.

Dances and games.

I find bold looks for adventure 

At the bottom of every glass.
Adventures to empty places

Abandoned homes and factories

Rusted cogs and rotten wood

Dirt covered and water logged.

A train car of needles and booze.

A tree choking old generators.
Adventures and bold looks

Brought to you by bottles.

I see a heart across the room.

It speeds it’s pace for me.

Looking deep in my eyes 

The heart makes my throat, 

So dry…
Everytime I drink I wonder

Will this be my last heart?

I ask myself, is one more ok.

Yes, always yes, to quench.

The blood rushes across my skin

Cycling faster and faster

With every blink and touch.
I grab her hand and spin

Flash my shoes and pull her close.

Smelling the heart heating,

I fill my cup with her smiles

Spread them to my friends. 
The effort so simple,

The timing made perfect.

A breath on her neck

A brush of my lip

The blood boils under her skin.
My adventure to an empty place

Pressing into an empty home.

An abandon factory where love

Used to be polished and clean.

Now covered in dirt

…and wet.

Will this be the last cup?

I find bold looks for adventure,

At the bottom of every glass.

The Ladder.

I’ve seen the city from the top
Of the water tower at the tracks.

Ignoring my fearful thoughts

I rose, no looking down to my fear.

Smiled my bright brave face.

Clinched my chattering teeth.

My knuckles turned white

Holding the bars tight 

To fight their violent trimble.
Shouting above to ensure

The best of my team.

They never saw the shivering boy

I hid inside my quivering throat.

Stepping over the top rail

My hand groped for the bar

Fingers felt the cold metal

Slipping from my grip.

My weight shifted back…
Falling… my greatest fear…

As a child I rolled from my bed

Nightly I would tumble down

Dreaming of slipping off

Gravity taking my hand

Leading me to the inevitable.

I slam on the ground

Felt the reverberation 

Sweep through my bones
Clenched my chattering teeth

My knuckles turn white 

As I snach for the ladder

Holding the bars tight. 

Escaping my nightmare

For one more day, I feel the life

Pulse stronger in my viens.
My feet slide over to land slowly.

The tower steadily under my feet

Looking over my defeated enemy

All the fear dripping to the ground.


What is one heart amongst a crowd?

A single beat among thousands?

A drop of blood in a river of viens?

If all were silence

The beating in a crowd

Would be all that’s heard.

The deafening thumping.

All contained in our bone cages.

What is one heart amongst a crowd?

A life within a network?

A human in all of humanity.

With every new life each year grows

One year longer. 

With every death one year grows

One year shorter.

Time is spent at the speed of a second

Over the length of a lifetime.

What is one heart? Amongst seven billion?

Poetic Fate

In a room full of heavy hearts

I can only lean to keep sharp

I have these dripping pumps

Flooding my mind’s poor cup

I drink fast trying not to drown

In the emotion’s echoing sound.

A sponge can only hold so much

Before it’s dripping with such…

Heavy slogging, my soaked frame

Sailing the bog of poet’s shame.

The pain crashing over in waves

Destroys my notion to behave.

I rip at my clothes and drip

The sweat from toe to lip.

Stepping outside for a breath

Georgia air feels, soggy death.

In the heavy heat holding tight.

I feel the weight getting light.

Free of the pain permitted the air

Revived from the borrowed dispar

I see my friend, beauty and grace

Enter in her thorny and pierced face.

She hugs me hard and relive my weight

And I return to face the poet’s fate.

Whirlwind of Peace

Morning tears on the green
Bright with dawning sheen
Calm was over the grove
Thrashers hop from where they dove
Picking feeding and pecking
Chasing the tiny crawling

Whirlwinds of life around
Ignoring the peace for town.
Spinning hums on the ‘phalt
Fighting winter; polluting salt
No rest in sleep
No peace when we weep.

Alone in the grove, toad sits.
Holding simple, his wits
Nibbling a long blade, the long ear.
Searches to satiate free of fear
Dusk ambles over the heated day
Pacifying those who wish to fade away.