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.

Revolution in Living Colour


Donned worker safety vest
mock painting mural Banklobby jests
all placard and baton the smoky street
Alchemy stage three our History meets.
What sleeps in hill pick-axe shrill?
Sickle Capital Labor ism Will?
Their ratten loots in meaning
language programmed to be demeaning
your Shadow a pillow sleep
so transverse truth your hours keep
in Labor for their word
not seen nor heard
but Trusted
as in fudiciary over judiciary
ca-ching though but tertiary
and oh here comes
coloured
war
Collective is born again
to what omen stopped
I alone just don't know.

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