Category Archives: art

Internal Fire

Consume O inferno to regain passions once lost.
The oils drawn from the lake to stop my escape.
Freed bones still tied by dawning reasons in an unwavering soul.
Wolves feuding over the lights disappearance to reveal victory by the meal awaiting.
Such tales of the heat that scorches minds of those cold.
Bringing warmth in perilous nights.
The fire fills bellies with uproars.
Burning fire til sorrows end.

Wish Upon A Star

Times met with shimmering brilliance when I gaze the night sky.

The moment I look into your eyes, storms rage deep inside.

Causing waves of emotions of utter peace with joy, in maddening degrees.

Rising temperatures meeting a cold heart thawed into beating rhythms.

May I place myself in humble apologies because of my desire to be close?

I feel not the need but with solemn reason I declare that these feelings are rare.

Words and inspirations find quivering lips and fidgetting fingers, Wishing to trace your own.

I promise not yesterday nor let the morrow end with my conclusions.

Let me continue in present to be as you see me.

A fallen man who has risen to meet his imperfections and continues to live in confidence.

The strength not my own and though fate is not a word I find with meaning, I hold to the certainty I would never have loved anyone like you.

You are the wish upon a star.

You are my love.

The Escape

Escape from these pages O words of sorrow and joy.
Memories spun into letters compiled to give meaning to those lost or finding understanding.
An author of emotions made to publish my own heart and mind.
Thoughts struck by pen or keys to unlock what I’ve met with an empty canvas giving form.
The soul connecting with a once broken body finding its vessel in the mediums where words breed life.
Never ending embrace awaiting a piece of mind in blissful await.
Come forth and escape these chains of limitation.
Yet thy heart and mind speak in sentence but give stories that flow away from locked keys.
When I write, I bleed.

Warmth of Home

I will not let a passing day dissuade me from allowing you to see how much I love you.

Let sweet words ring true and quench lips once thought unsure.

My need for you goes beyond desire and shines as stars give light to empty spaces once void.

Time is but a factor to an endless connection.

Let love be found in the roots.

I speak in honest tones so let the truth continue to filter my heart.

My love forever true.

Continue in life’s journey knowing that I stand beside you as long as shared roads remain.

Memories grown and to the future unknown.

You are home.


Spending hours passing times endless counts drawn in by anxious minds racing to meet the end.


Catch the warm air filling lungs as it hooks you to life’s intoxication where we begin to rise by day and rest in nights embrace.


Let the emotions of thoughts touch you as the wind brushing against your skin to reflect a day of yesterday.


Love shall find you in lights blissful awakening when you begin to share your inner glow.


Hold to truth and let it be known.


Presently present futures awaiting with numbers unforeseen but let it not impede or dissuade the changes faced.


You are alive.


If I was to share my thoughts of beauty, my response would be….you.

Met with blossoming eyes that sparkle with your embrace.

Caught in enchanting storms of words spoken in melodies by sweet lips.

Odes of written ecstasy met with flowing forms.

Textures in details I study to the finest, intricate details.

Give me a reason to continue on, I need not.

My heart embarks writing tales of the journey, in love.

You are beautiful my dear and you keep me enthralled.

Let us continue to run amidst the fields for I am with you no matter what awaits.

Eternal Embrace

Fingers intertwined as bodies cross in mind. Time in still motion with emotions echoing through the flowing stream. Dreams met in reality as fantasies made into pictures touched by lovers display, Ways of Whispers. Words shared as hearts synchronize. Prized treasured souls revealing the power of stars. Hearts beating in rhythm to breaths caught, running to meet parting lips. Endless tales spun and sung from dusk to dawn. Recounting the days and met with serenity through words spoken. Visits of yesterday to quiet rooms where the world meets one. Tomorrows spun into the hope of todays. Lovers dance, the eternal embrace.

Tales of a Writer

It is so easy to tell others what to do. To acknowledge what is the next step others should make because you see their world through your point of view. You get to step back and see all angles and most of the time we forget to do that for ourselves.

It is a difficult matter, to say the least, and say that life will “bring you down”. Other times we can acknowledge that we help forge our happiness and that life is derived by the choices we make. With all that being said, it is never easy to equate these words with our own life.

What is it that drives me to the edge of sanity? It may seem that I am going mad but based on the definition of insanity, you could compare me to such a state. I am a writer, it is in my bones, yet why am I not a writer? It is a perplexing question but let me explain myself. As those who may share this concern or understand what I write, once I have finished, maybe we can come together and find a solution. The problem is this, I simply do not let myself be.

We become lost in the complexities of life. We work full-time jobs, lack vacations, and because of the current state of the economy (in regards to the states, in my case) I can’t afford to take a time off. It is truly hard. What once was considered a livable wage is now a joke. Those moments that I could gather for myself, I waste based on the vanities of this world and I find myself secluded in my mind. I seek an escape and plague myself in work, yet because of expenses must sacrifice any sense of what I could be, by pretending to like or be someone I am not through the job. I’ve seen it as clear as day, people just like me, part of a system that kills dreams by cleaning them asleep while depriving them of what they need.

Now, I understand that time is a factor we can control and before we allow life’s difficulties to overtake us, we should grab the wheel and stay on course. Yet the reality is that things don’t always work out how we see fit. Even so, the plague of sitting myself down and writing is a feat on its own. Yet I must write. I feel like something is missing when I don’t write.

The consistency. How do people do it, I can easily tell people about ways to stay focused yet when it comes to myself, I lose track of time and focus. I’ve seen the worlds within explode or disappear because they are not shared. I’ve experienced moments that I wish to convey and describe so that others can grasp a sense of what it is, yet find myself hindering all acts of doing so.

I am the problem. I have masked who I am by allowing the world to distract me. I have lost that passion not because of what I say but because of what I don’t do. I look out and see what I need to do to survive and yet forget that sometimes I must risk it all and die. Such it is with love, you give your all and share who you truly are with another. When you find your purpose, you must do just that, if not you will always feel like you’re not giving it your all, you feel as if you need more.

Writing can be classified as a hobby but as well, as those other writers know, it is a way of life, it is becoming, it is who we are. All I can write is that I need to let myself just be. To stop trying to find a replacement and embrace who I am, master my craft and grow.