To summarize my soul with simple sentences

Serves to sever the sustenance siphoned from familiarizing a forgotten friend;

Tiny tidbits of truths,

Tied to chosen chunks of conversation,

Demonstrable of displaying a few frayed fibers of my being.

My metaphors metabolize

Abstract anomalies in my defined diction;

Center pieces of synergy,

Stealing the show from the staged strokes of black on white,

Magically materializing mental images imprinted with printed prose.



Who am I to dare to dictate prose upon paper?

What stories have I sown in the haste of life and loss of heart?

When did I dream of epics drenched in emotion?

How many heroes have messaged their stories through time to me?

Why can I claim the title of dictator; my rule defined in keystrokes?

Tis a simple solution that tears from my fingers against the rational of my rearing,

The void of the moment is ignited by inspiration; consumed in a conflagration of voice,

I cannot change the chance of my charge; my characters chained in clarity,

The breathing and beating of my body demand I drift into the daze of past,

The sagas and songs scream at my soul and render my slumber asunder;

Not until the lines are long, the lovers lose their chance and the protagonist perishes

Will I seek the sheets of solace from the ferocity of enduring my endeavors

Spent from spinning fairy tales of freedom and servitude; I transcend.


Falling petals float ponderously,

Wind kisses them in wistful twists,

Perfect and pink they pique people’s perceptions,

Silent and screaming they are streaming in song,

Graced by the generosity of Gaia they grant joy long gone,

In remembrance of ritual and renewal, they revive the revel.

Little Dragon

Dance little dragon dwelling deep in my desire

Sing sweet flames of fervent love to life

Shatter softly your slumber

Lust long in love’s last light

Intern the introspection of the Inferno

Rouse the rumbling roar revealed in the revel of romance

Now be still beating soul

Enticed by eyes iced in catalytic charisma

Astonished by auburn ablaze

Painted pricks on porcelain produce perfection

Seduced by symmetry sliding into a smooth smile

Goddess in the guise of humanity; humble my heart

Dance little dragon beneath the blinding moon before me

Drift into the blank bliss defined in the dream of dreamers

Crest the peaks in crescendos of perfect clarity consumed in consolation

The dark is yet beset upon the horizon of the heart

Dance little dragon, dance until the songs stop sounding sweet and the sun sways in the sky

Dance little dragon, dance.


Fickle little flame of life,

Dance around defined actions

Burn my finger in broken flings

Warm my heart in welcome homes

Light my lovers’ memories

Shadow the secret truths

Extinguished by emotional banter;

My fire yearns for a touch of tranquil air

The winds of tempests’ whisper travesty

The flicker and step of fantasy and satisfaction

Eludes an effort aimed at purpose of perfection

Familiar light is forgotten and lingers like heaven on the heart