Blog Archives

muse2

statues are fascinating. did you ever see why? when it starts, a butterfly is all there was… fluttering a dream, in some sculptors mind. only to find anew, the perfection of his simple heart: surrounded by crowds, to see the

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Drink

Have you ever seen Heaven then turned the other way. Afraid. have you ever tasted Freedom, then chose a chain. Blackest of black nights, doesn’t compare to (it eats color), it is an abyss. ever been there? so alluring, to disappear. voices,

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Posted in abuse, addiction, art, dark art, fiction, friendship, generation, local, love, mental health, miami, miami art, millenials, personal, poem, poems, poetry, reading, recovery, relapse, short story, shpongle, tablets, trance, Uncategorized, unique, unrequited love, writing

Reaching out for Help

Something I’ve never been good at. Why not though? I’d love to help out other struggling artists. Why not let others help me? Lets see how this goes :P. My love for writing will never diminish! Fundraising Websites – Crowdrise

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Posted in abuse, addiction, art, bipolar, bipolar 2, dark art, fiction, friendship, gallery, generation, goa, haikus, local, love, mental health, miami, miami art, millenials, nonfiction, ode, plot, poem, poems, poetry, reading, recovery, relapse, sexual abuse, short story, shpongle, Uncategorized, unedited, unique, unrequited love, writing

cheshire

the sun drizzles an orange glow on the brick roofs, its quite the sight, after a day of puking emotions. in contrast to the quiet and stillness of the mossy trees, that arranged themselves in disorder. it reminds me of

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swampy ponderings

treading through a swampy pondering, lost and sticking in those same old spots, escaping the phantasms of yesterdays, and stumbling over the possibilities, the mangroves shudder as i spiral further inward, but then i remember a time, where words made

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change

shadow silhouettes speak: (from the tiled corner) swallow it all. the bathroom a cocoon: where madness walked aloof, I changed, when prides great statue carved immaculate in the mind, crumbled from a whisper: I want to live. the liquors grasp,

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surrender

I got this, I know the way: like weeds covers the path… I’ve fallen in the bramble I planted, tripped over the roots they sprouted, now on the cold floor of the psych ward, washed in rusted yellow walls..that talk

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i choose

today I choose faith, a hunger subtle as the breeze where is the God of choice, a change of faces, a flip of the coin. Eat the fruit they say. So here, under the Mellow sun I sit with open

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serenity

i pray to you (God) Or Who else? everything: a bridge of bramble grows or doubt: Empty coliseum where will the storm sprout, i ask humble? *take away my difficulties for freedom, i choose everything (in doubt) let the storm

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M

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Posted in poem, poems, poetry

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