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.

No Rolling Over

Use it
or lose it:
our innermost beam
Prince ray.
Royalmost Magick,
its innate majesty now so ritually reversed.

Kubrickhands 5G!
Lithos monkeypaw swipe darkglass thing,
Monolith became Reynolds Wrap in Sedona overnight.
Scrying such
smart things,
app address server,
secrete me down the Stream.
Censor me in the offkiltered world.

Use it or lose it your Light.

or even
Opus Doris Day,
just you,
your story
in three panels --
Brochure for Heavens Gates.
Scroogeghost phased alchemy some weight for feather
a Ferryboat home
Your ride or not.
These chains and doorknockers.

Okay go.
Look out Holes!
Here come those rabbits.
Mirror beasts
plummeting our Way
once again. 

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