A poem — The thing is this~ by nature or nurture we are found, unfolding as the chrysanthemum off to the wayside, partaking in life’s juxtapositions in offensive ways, one is never sure about the direction, the course off course. Temptations begin at the commentary, section after section beginning and ending with ‘why?’, understanding that…

A poem Tales of the begotten, surface as the bottom of the shore, when the windstorm blows surface water into your face, digesting a portion of you that was less scared, before. But now, now things are different, up is below and below is across and crisscrossed we are just as…

the complexity of being human — Honesty is crude, where are we at, jostling contradictions inside the foreboded self, hosting old and new in the face of destruction, usurping the ocean in front of waves. Jacob climbed the ladder, little red and the wolf, the world spins in synchronicity, yet happenstance, happens. Rosters full of agendas…

A poem Telling the tales of yesteryear, drudging through a hundred feet of snow uphill on a mount, I cannot help but wonder, are you my father? Aching joints beset you and you cry wilderness, your last moments with me are spent screaming, you are the wild and I wonder, are you my…

A poem It is there that truths were brought to light, in the desert sin the vision quests, it’s in the shapeshifter that we disappear from existence, trying but buying feelings and love not life, how then can we ever speak the truth? Mobility is necessary in life as is…

A poem — To the self, we may return if prodded just a little, towards the left or right or in the middle, wise men don’t talk about the skeletons in their closet, yet their refusal is adamant yet so profound that it betrays their innocence, and in moving forward the golden eggs…

A poem As sin winds down, yellow refractions raining down as the sky falls and the moon glows, one may forget the sorrows of the day but remember their elongation, perceived after the midnight rise. The snow covers the barren land, lilies of the valley, we are reclusive and reflective as…

A poem — Returning to the matter of tomorrow, today we run into the space of misery, desolation and spite, jiggling between the Western and Eastern worlds, perhaps the need for help besets us. To be human in crushing times, where crisis after crisis runs across the church, running towards the monastery in hopes of salvation, this being…

A poem For this is a perturbation, whether we sink or swim in uncharted territory where something sailed at one point in time, oscillating between fantasy and the fantastic, never giving a damn as to the effects of exploration. Indigenous lands preclude this generation, gently growing into a young man, …