TODAY’S MASK     It stands again.  The opening of day.  Clothes fashioned in dreams, purchased in the dawn of shadowed choices.  We awake in aspirations.  Forged in tosses and turns.  We fill our hair from a shower to wash the sleep out. We transfer to the towel unused and excess water.  The song of … More TODAY’S MASK


MIDNIGHT PASSED     My town sits quiet. The sun has bled out. Blinds are tight.  Dog chase cats in their dreams.  Stop lights blink red.  A billion stars hold silent over our spinning planet. Winds have muscled to another place.  Cool air yawns onto lawns and weeds.  Dew weeps without crying.  The history of … More MIDNIGHT PASSED


FROM UP HERE     Shadows run charcoal, flat like iron painted across walls as it spills silently onto a fallowed field suffering from a lack of love.   A blood sun spreads rivers over streets and sides of tired brick buildings.   An emotional wind creates sounds resembling words whispered through fences and back … More FROM UP HERE


WHERE I STAND     Since childhood I’ve stood here, looking out as if waiting for something to appear.   We are shorelines. Pressed by waves of thoughts, touched by winds of words, yet we feel safe in the safety of an eventide flow.   We gather at sunset, remembering farewells while shading our eyes … More WHERE I STAND


SHIFTING TIDES     Long thick lines.  The gathering of waiting under city clouds. Anxious shoes and a suddenness of delirium stretches like sleep being thrown off.  The mumbling mass prepares to strike out on separate paths while considering weighty thoughts; they groan without being heard.  The songs of buses and car tires divert a … More SHIFTING TIDES


HEADING HOME   Farewell to day.  The heat layered high through dawn, spreading wide over spaces where long shadows formed beyond ancient obstacles burdened into place.   Night….finally moved in.   People casually scattered.  Stars opened their windows onto a black sky.  The desert diner closed up; its neon’s splizzed out a last drizzle of … More HEADING HOME

STORYTELLERSTORYTELLER Words of search create voices with an appetite of design. The storyteller opens wide doors in corners where shadows, like broken glass, desire to repair. His tales were dreams yet to happen; visions of three legged dogs, birds with one wing and cats singing. Everyone welcomed the images while sitting silently while as words tumbled out of his hallway of memories. There were promises, confessions and minced oaths. He spoke in parables, naming the characters. A circle of visions appeared within him. He is full on develop, as stories are printed behind his eyes.


THE RELEASE     The crossover to sleep is a distance unmeasured.  Awake is sacrificed for a corner of quiet; a temporary market until delivered before voices without images and shapes undergoing changes.   We toss our thoughts like the sheets flowing over us; there’s an unwary boldness rising into hero status.   Night watches … More THE RELEASE


WHAT YOU GOT         “Why you smiling playing that jazz?”  She asked with serious eyes and lips parting the oceans of my thoughts.   “It’s the spirit shadow inside me.”  I replied, smiling into her deep pool eyes and hurricane hair.   “It pushes you into play?  Making fingers find the notes?”   I … More WHAT YOU GOT


ANCIENT COLORS     It was the last sign.  A crease in the weather where the beginning blends into a final draw, submitting to the curtain of seasons.   A pocket full of pressed parables circled within the eventide of lost logic and faded common sense.   The sky shouldered misted illusions casting shadows onto … More ANCIENT COLORS