Baltimore.
Burned out, hidden from the crowds inside of stranger's minds,
there are things to be found
in a time after time...after time.
But look,
not always you can read the last memories
inside of the universe book,
you always share what it takes
but now it gets more than you took.
No, stranger!
Nothing left to be undermined,
simple, eternal, contagious,
chasing ashes from those emp...

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First, from nothing scarce.

From the significance in first tormenting light after leaving the dark.

I wanted to mention how love saved certain severances...The blood and clay…soul molded and punctured body of constellations…

How we break free.

How my star falls tonight.

Into the root. Into the wind to feel the soil again. Like his hands wavering the beginnings of sun and s...

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Dark birds hover around the wounds of the mystic. They are thirsty.

I am forrayed emitting light. Swashbuckling my shadow. Descending. Invisible ethereal mist...

The fog attributed to the charm of strangers. Colors harbor the noisy cloud of confessionals.

I feel the foam of ruins. Mirrors with cracked edges. Silhouettes...

Doors sunken within eyes. Sunny shoveled graves. Hollowed out e...

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I want to confess that the last minute is the bell tapered within his hands.

That single gesture of ominous struggle to wring out hazards and corridors. Rusted knobs like knuckles.

Eyelash fringe of frosted root. Cold clemency. Integrous beasts. We are jailed flutter. Inside. Within…

We free one another together.

I search for the maze of divine intervention and wings.

He i...

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They frame me in the milestones. Something like an unkempt garden. I am half naked in blizzards of truth. Temperamental hands unclothe me...

Uprooted.

Because you love me whispers from adversaries blow at our threads. The nature of their beasts forget the importance of their Mothers...Of women. Umbilical iridescence floats away. Kites like thoughts lose strings...

I promise...

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A shadow drawing across my notebook

a guiding hand for my uncertain pen

another mind thinking my thoughts

the ghost writer begins to take over.

Words from a different realm

sentences flowing from beyond

aiding me with my creative void

the ghost writer is taking over.

Holding my unsteady hand

boldly streams of words do flow

happy am I with my expressive frien...

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Echoes,
echoes in the dark chasing us away..
chasing us..
away.

Echoes, 
echoes.. are still down there,
..there they are trying to hear our call,
call them to come around we are almost free, almost there,
almost there..
..fallen angels on the ground..
on the ground..
broken needle in a hay ..
in a hay.

Echoes,
echoes .. forever and before,
..before we weren't the same in their e...

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Poetry is a 
refuge for 
a lonely life

the antidote
for pain 
and strife

warm words 
blanketing
a frigid night

tonic for thirsty sailors 
drowning in an ocean 
from which we cannot drink

To our deserted island we go 

while the world 
casts us loners, 
introverts, quiet
weird, crazy...

Let them judge 
as they wine and dine 
in crowded rooms 
on cell patrol

while w...

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