The Villanette The hand of death is knocking at my door; It chose to interrupt my villanelle With one last line to write and nothing more. My youth was filled with time to waste galore, The words they rang so quickly like a bell. The hand of death is knocking at my door. My thoughts…(Read More)
High School Memories High school memories hang On like well-worn times of ole First times are for keeps  …(Read More)
Nourishment to the Gods The knife plunged deep into his chest, And the gods smiled. Proof, they said, Of divine devotion as the worshipers ripped His heart from his gaping chest — And held high for all the devout to see. Now we’re more civilized, Preferring less theatrics behind closed Doors, where the smell…(Read More)
Hallowed Ground Days pass by, while the earth Reeks of hate And corruption — corruption of the Soul In all its glorious Rage against humanity. But from this narrow row of inanity I will Fly Away, because this ain’t my Hallowed Ground…(Read More)
The Blues Come and Go The rain keeps falling and there’s nothing You can do but accept it. You can look Away or find shelter, but the rain Remains indifferent. Clouds will gather in the Garden of the guilty and the innocent— As another generation of misgiven Souls…(Read More)
On Writing Good writing starts with a naked idea pleading for some brave soul to give it wings, lifting it beyond the heavens. But along that path to eternity, most fall captive to cowards, thieves, whores and pimps—destitute slaves to worthless gods; disguised dogma that wallows in timidity—hell-bent on dragging those who…(Read More)
Shared Dreams Neither money nor fame—earned or ill begotten— Can diminish the loneliness felt From a thousand hopes and wishes Cast upon an indifferent universe, which mostly Go unnoticed. Faith, folly and freedom offer little refuge for A weary soul. But the trials and tears of life go lessened By the loving comfort of…(Read More)
The Suit The onlooker’s contempt momentarily waned As the Prince Walked Down a path Less traveled by pawns, beggars And poets. The wheels of time, disgrace and anguish— Thorns in His side—rolled Faithfully along; His true Identity temporarily disguised By simply donning a suit and tie…(Read More)
Fear The man kept walking through The trees as the darkness flew Over him like a stark, black Raven. He could feel the eyes upon him As a curtain of silence swallowed The day, and the evening spirits awoke. Blood dripped from the willows And muffled screams rose From their tortured pasts. The earth spins…(Read More)
Why I Love Poetry I have always been intrigued and inspired by poetry. My first encounter with tall tales, short stories and poetry was around the fifth grade at Prichard Elementary School in my home town of Grayson, Kentucky. The teacher brought in a book from Edgar Allen Poe. I was hooked. We students would…(Read More)
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