A Comment

Everyone's waging a war of the moment Modern crusades without thought component Movements led by priests and their zealots All for the cause and in praise of the harlot Destroy hate with hate without understanding Burn it all down we need a rebranding Sacrifice all to get rid of the one It's always the pacifist...

Because History Is Cooler Than Fantasy:

I've made this "Valkyrie" (or Norse female warrior) t-shirt design available on Teespring. (The mock up above is different in scale than the actual shirt, due to print limitations, but I like the Teespring link better.) The text on the back is a bit of verse from Darraðarljoð, or the Weaving Song of the Valkyries,...

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This place I never meant to find, this time I never meant to be in, holds me against my will and I linger longer than a moment in years gone past and lost; it's all I can do to not reach out, to stretch out from the lonely dark with fingers broken and bruised from...

void

I wanted to write tonight, to pull from the void an expression of the emptiness in me right now and tell you how I feel, to say something that mattered, that might make a difference, and change this moment for both of us; the problem is... the void is just that, and all I have...

Of Prometheus

The deepest hours of night pale in comparison to the abyssal depths of the artistic mind--a place where things unsafe and unmeant to be lurk waiting to be given life, shades of the horrors of Man that fortunately find little more than glimpses of life as a sparks extinguished as rapidly as they ignite. And...

Musings From The Porch: The Storm & The Vigil

“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!” - Hunter S. Thompson A year ago I wrote...

Fortress

It is the quiet settled on me that weighs the most, sharp and unbearable, a work of fire destroying the soul; there is no hell like this one, no furious torment to match it, but neither is there anything like the salvation that comes of solitude.

Babylon Calling

I've posted this piece before, but gave it some graphic design love.

how the heart dies

You offered it, the hope I held on to, this sense of security and meaning, without my asking, without my wanting-- I reached for it, for what it meant, because you offered, because it mattered; but what I grasped was emptiness, lonely and cold-- abandoned after so many promises, so many offers; silence and waiting...