she is stone a weeping of messages from the hard side of time she is a half open door an envelope unsealed passion fire burns within her tears are jewels spilled to the floor broken. weeping crystals, messages from time; the … More A QUIET STAND
Broken desires are deserts without souls thirsting for water breathing hot air spread across cruel sands they are beyond faith and prayers like promises unfulfilled slipping through broken fences and over empty lots each desire is a passion of fire the ashes become answers forming a new story
Voices in the hallway soft like parchment falling to the floor muffled words pressing against morning air as shadows cross over cracked plaster walls there was an intentional restraint of voices creating a curious drama for those listening behind closed doors it sounded like promises were presented to return sighs of … More NOT SURE
She possessed a doubtful overture of laughter like an inner shadow shielding pain when speaking with passion she covered her heart as if preventing it from being captured by worldly pursuers she rarely spoke of holy things, only then, a half smile when bored she gazed about slipping away with a faint … More MOSAIC
the shadow staggers behind out of rhythm humming a song no one ever heard there were times of shadow separation crossing the line a string of walk-a-ways never followed through or followed up and the lack of respect the disinterest toward the shadow spending time leaning, fading back, crossing over or through … More JUST TO THE SIDE
He dressed roughly, like a storm shaken tree. His corners were unbroken. A long step claimed his ground. Short salt flavored thoughts watered his words with meaning. Work was his passion. There was reason with his plans. Quality is the art he perfects. Concern speaks from his eyes. He rises before the sun, claiming each … More A FOREST WITHIN
His fingers owned the strings releasing freely treasures slipping to earth. Notes competing with stars lighted dark skies like Christmas every night. His head snapped to the beats bursting in air then settled slow into soft. Sweat channeled long with drips from his passion as he breathed out the jazz.
Night chords drip a slow pace. Porches fill with moving voices. The ice in drinks mix with perfume and sweat. The bass man spills the passion while his hands create a sound blessing. He has a garden of jazz to release. Colors in the crowd move forward, bright with face, soft in … More INSPIRATION