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.

Company Be

They switched it
the here and Now
the essential sensory
the being and how
That God needs to drink in
taken away
teleported
Into tiny screens
cast daemon "whole world"
black boxes handheld
and mounted flat wall meld
Full of stories, written
so very tall
Fear and loathing
and Trump-ette call.

Kubrickon sounds alarm.
It's the Bugle Boi from Company Be.

Commercial Narrative
fills all the fear in tanks.
Pipes it to Affiliate pump.
Now called your Local News.
Gas up!
Sports and weather.
No birds or feather.
Coplights flash on couch patterns home
no backyard lounge rest
as the sun slides by
all day long.

Up comes moon.
What happened today?
What's in your head?
Certainly not the stars.
Crickets and frogs before bed.

All lull miracle must battle
electromagnetic leach
and each arc mounting
at least I know
there's beach.

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