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...and a silence dark and unforgiving

fell on this house

and all my kindnesses were brought

to naught.

Evil stares at me with different faces

Smiles turn into serpent's hisses

whispers of a Judas

dance frenetic around Truth

and Innocence

you do crucify.

Editing stage: 


darkness is a love
the left hand
the right side

truth and innocence
stillness and hisses
like serpentine memory
cool blooded from the
hot fire of life that lived
and lashed

tidbits of sunshine
to rest
breadcrumbs and water

fear is my mantra
the masks returning
delving deeper
beyond the echo
of location

intuition finds me
often in the swiftest

conquering flag worn and
tattered now
i can hear them on the hills
where i took my visions
and laid claim
in the strong winds
that drive me to seek cover
or charge slower headlong
cigarette hanging from the
moustached smile/grimace

i like these takes of yours
like vignettes
a rich tapestry of a voyage

thank you \geremia

Nothing more devastating than betrayal.

Thanks, Steven,

author comment

creative fires ignited.....that burn...that hurt..

i sit and many come forth
some i entertain
churning but ultimately
when my ego if ever heals
it is that risk that i want to rue...

if i bought a sales show
then so it was...
then the careful works and
efforts for the planning

i tuirned down many good
offers of a decent togetherness
for the splashy fireworks...

life of the rockstar poet hustler
grifter....intelligence has nothing
to do with any...nor money nor

ive lent of my heart....perhaps...
maybe more of my body
my lust my attention in retropect

and with even my pittance
it was my words my dandy ways
that was the small crave
for even now my walls are great
if i am alone even now
it is because of fate circumstance

my birth mother was not that interested
even after meeting her
my adopted mother was similar
my father wrapped in his world
i was too artlculated
for he who chose his crowd
of like to hang with to the end.....

obsession and infatuation are great
grist for books and movies....
i like that fiction
and brave are the rare whom
bask forever in that adoration
but i am a ruin....a nice tourist
destination at times
ive had my visitors
my share of the truly unique

and i know they must exist with
their work purpose of existance

artists lead an interesting and
complex life.....
i would not change it for all the
pain even now i feel
even being alone

but yah danmn
it hurts
but those wounds were
they were great......

life of a poet.....
we are living it....

thank you..


artists lead an interesting and
complex life.....
i would not change it for all the
pain even now i feel
even being alone

I wonder--a lifetime of pain of one kind or another. Not worth the ""art"". It all comes back to bite you in the ass.


author comment
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