# addiction # love #learninlove # life # truth # joy # happiness # beauty # peace # soul # body # mind #emotions # awe # poetry # heart # humanity # words # time # sound # mirror # learning # tree




Your purity has cleaned me 

At last this is how it should be 

Your voice makes even angels jealous 

Your beauty is twice to make angels fall 

Your curves & figure tops it all 

You are pure on the inside and out 

Your love is like smoke 

It fades away,but it is always there 

Your love mixes with the atmosphere 


It's been 33 years of reaching out,

timed by an eternal clock where many have reached back--

with love, reciprocating visions and dreams:

growing, glowing, greatness revered;

God's esteemed glory, a garment endeared...

MEGA is this life without the silhouette of the den where the devil dines,

embossed with the cross with deceptive lines;

blessed, but not by the measure of the rest...

I proclaim I am what I am by the grace of God.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed when God revealed His miraculous hand over my life having discovered a deadly birth defect after 58 years of living.

The people that were in my life at that time defined and changed the course of what I knew as my past and what would be called my future.


The Topic of Art:

Many artists like to record their life.

Of scenes aboout great aristocrats: or maybe a juggling acrobat!

Paintings recording great beauties and their lives as wife.

Or maybe the forgotten underclasses: appraising the treasures and are aghast!

At this wealth and it's gorgeous and gorged masters.

The wealth of the time: they in poverty could only mime.

With swollen heads the rich arrogantly stride.

Swollen bellies and sunken eyes of  the poor: their hunger they abhor.

Heres another scene; of tall sails and warships; all ready and keen.

For a meal the poor were  "bought", to fight the war.

This is recorded well; as the rich worship and preen.

Whilst  the ships bell sounded and there exploded pitch and tar.

To the bottom of the sea, did the ship sink; first to die were those in the drink.

Flaying, darting figures admist raging fire and explosion.

Died of fear before they entered the sea; nothing left but an empty sea.

All dead and sunk in sullen silence; not a tear shed in passion.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

And so are all wars I think. Then its time to trade; so why fight in the first place???

man in the mirror









Will he ever break free?

from paranoia 


      and misery

This cub waiting to be born

Raising from the ashes

Too rebuilt

Too Learn 

Be the King

for all to see







The cycle has begun.


I feel like roller coaster fight against the wind. Like I'm just one man in. Vat made of tin stuck in the bottom no matter how high I climb just listening to the sounds of the day go buy. I seek peace in the world of plastic to be happy without having to be elastic, I seek the smile and support on everyone that lives to dine in memory and do well not for the kids but for them. I push open the lid and I feel the world bear done, laughing at me like I'm just a clown, yet silent rage builds up and the bleeding goes down as the lashes from tongues draw blood from all around. Me in this jar I finally see the sun but it hurts after years of the dark it burns my eyes and rapes my skin yet I won't let that sunlight win, I crawl with my pale skin and stand with knees that screams to freeze, I get no support from any spirt in the sky many of my gods have abadoned me and I don't know why, yet still I do not cry. I crawl on the radiated land while sand grinds my eyes I start to crawl and I feel the freedom look into my eyes, I meet scared glances and second chances but in the end no one puts out a hand, freedom shoes me out and says thank you I hope you'll understand, understand what? That I am not truely free? I escaped. Jar only to be here stuck used by thee? To me tossed and turned dragged and burned and when I stand hands out for what I earned I get a stick across the lips, I see in here I guess I never learned. So now my heart is torn in places I feel not hate but scared of the mass of freedom that's on so glad to throw me away yet get mad. So I lay here wondering why should it be? I left the jar on my own two feet I watch my friends never leave the dark why me? This rock in my chest is stuck in my gut and I think I have had enough in depressed and it's repairing to slow I think it's time for this pain to go

Time to Live

One More Time

What is life, but a moment,

A breathe on a mirror,

Only there for a fraction of time

Before it disappears 

Leaving only an echo 

In its wake.

An echo of it's deeds

Of what it's passed on,

Whether it may be knowledge

Or another life,

Forming a tree that

Endlessly branches out with more,

And all because of that one moment.

So that fraction of a billion in time

Will forever remain on that mirror.

So what is life, but the joy of time.