Fragments in Sate

Fragments in Sate.i want you so deep in the body murk black sagging restless pains and dried kindle brittle and break alone sharing      what is lost                                                 .       forgive whistling winds … Continue reading Fragments in Sate

Fragments in Ire

"Fragments in Ire", to be read out loud (if at all possible), as a single disjointed poem, or nine separate poems. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ .slight slick back and black dirt under the nails laughing at that plight     that trite jealous lust for attention .something tickled then crumbles curls and fumbles against       some mountain from some-where, it moves, … Continue reading Fragments in Ire


Dictionary definitions can have a certain irony to them. Commonly, instead of explaining anything significant about the words they attempt to capture, definitions give us lifeless descriptors, or worse, technical synonyms.Let us look at the word: 'Sad'"feeling inadequate, unfortunate, regret or showing sorrow; unhappiness"Taking the word ‘sad’ as a self descriptor, most would agree that … Continue reading “Sad”


.in arms the dread lifts up inside out my stomach curlsits over im over its here. for giving and enabled my spite hides in a tube crossed under channelsgood friends should offer firstgood friends should understand. clouds in hands, silent saints, something slithers passed saying very little,low and alone i want it i want it. … Continue reading #5

Radical Honesty P.2: Our Equation, Compassion and Poetry

Hark! In my first post I said Radical Honesty gives way to an acceptance that changes our concern from convincing others of our character to convincing others of their own. Moreover, accepting who and what you are allows you to meet any fate with dignity and a certain satisfaction. Ultimately, this is a questionable sentiment … Continue reading Radical Honesty P.2: Our Equation, Compassion and Poetry


everything lies as a trap gleeful fill the belly and strike. this pond, remarkable by depth, and fearing every inch. at the tip of pin and worry those wings fight to be countedat root, nothing at all. stagnant in surface grime and trash in green in dark shade, without fence, i sink between its mirror. … Continue reading #4

Rose Colored Boy: Cynic or Optimist?

In our age of oversaturated media, from mass book markets, blogs, vain and informative (but equally as desperate) youtube channels, we find two reflexive temperaments. On the one hand we have Cynics, those who insist "there is nothing interesting to say anymore", and on the other, the faithful Optimist, the yay-sayers, giving out praise constantly. … Continue reading Rose Colored Boy: Cynic or Optimist?