Welcome, and thanks for stopping here to read selections of my original poetry and prose. Only half my art is here. As you browse my puppets, words if you will, think of them as empty hulls whose dance and form are only animated in Play through my vocal conveyance of their characters and via my direction of their tone. Lyric to the ears, its whole message soon appears, in thus the conjuring of ancient daemons deep within to combat the evil ones brought up infernal by the Craft of ages can be our stage tonight.

On this blog the theme is AWAKENING and how Revelation is not some story plural in a Book but supposed to be one of yours in this lifetime. Here in verse I share with you my inquiry to which has bonded Muse.
YOUR STORY IS THE STORY. Their horsie four so full of holes they named that way just to have a laugh. Revelation and Creation coincide, they never stopped. A daily occurrence in a Live Show me is true Prophesy which I assure you, smells nothing like a library book, and for which no innocents are ever killed. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you copy it to heart.

Brainwashed Clean

Took me a sec,
sitting there
dopey break deck
bathroom clean
escape chlorine
some sunny thunder rural air.
Woke me up kinda
from the chemical haze.
I realized no, half dazed
my left breast
push notifications.
Only a twitch.

Shake me outta this thing!

I think
as my hands
reek of sanitize's stink
See, soon in Flatbread
not so named
they're going to murder
quite a score
same gas
no pedal to the floor.
One I have too in pool
keeping me cool.
The forgotten frothy
at the mouth.
The Shakespeare all world said.

We all have same chemistry.
Gets shipped for World, last War.
Birds are chirping. Actors on mark.
Get set. Gaslit now spark!
In the East not quite either side
the cameras and canisters arrive.

And missiles will fly
hundreds die
For morals high up in the air.

As if laundry shit
were any worse
than a sniper hollow bullet
to a baby's skull

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