Author Information
Intro
What more is there
to my introduction
than a deconstruction
of the muse that got me here
to begin with?
The blues,
that after being spoken
can leave a man lipless
in struggle
to redefine
what his heart just told his mind
that told his wrist
that fingered a fine line
between metaphor and explanation.
Now tell me,
in this excavation
of thought,
of rhythm and rhyme,
if there is a time
when we feel elated
to see the lyrical dust settle
into discernible dirt.
And oh-my-god, the rush
of a perfectly penned dilemma
evokes
an instant choke,
because it seems
every piece was fated
to diffuse
an aching muse
and reinvigorate
the notion
that we've got nothing to lose.
We are Art personified
into crews
of lyrical journeyman
hellbent on burning
the bridges that link our yearning to feel
to our learning to heal
with each clinical piece.
And it's almost a Biblical peace
that's achieved,
when you spill your guts out
on a whimsical sheet.
And flimsy or not,
these are MY precious thoughts
to be treasured
or torn apart;
Either way,
I am loving this art.
So here I am,
more defined by a random poem
than any bio
could ever conjure.
Pardon me
while I saunter
to the next open space
so I may spill my Spirit
all over the place...
