Breaking through these boundaries,

absolution comes with conditions;

purgatory haunting me

a self-imposed freedom

of limitation that binds

us to each other,

me unto my Self,

until I am only

that which

I Am:




Shadows dancing on canvas
hold the light in silhouette,
a halo of chaos
inviting immersion
in a captured moment
illuminated by
a frantic, artful stroke
of controlled intoxication.


Contain the void
and find it within,
undone by its making,
defined only by restriction:
speed moving with the
freedom of thought,
abstract intentions
enabling reason,
breathing light into life
where there was
only shadow before;
outward glimpses of
inward turnings
voiceless expressions
of things awoken,
casting color where
words are lost.

Dies the Fire

I whisper to the world
words uneasy for me,
except when offered
only to you, though
now I find they fall
and fail at carrying
the meaning of the moment,
and mark now my faults;
and I find before me
a fate unwinding
against my will,
without design
and though I struggle
to stand this line
I wonder at what
the world will think
of the hero who falls
from lack of passion?

Roses By Any Other Name…

Call it only what it is
and not what it is not,
not what you want it to be,
not what you want from me –
this thing
that hurts
that makes me bleed
for being what I am,
for being what you asked,
for being more
than I should have been;
so call it only what it is,
not what it could have been,
not what I believed it to be.