A dystopian future, out of this mess,
Not what we want, I must confess.
our future's plan, not by our hand,
Please try your best to understand.

Careerist politicians robbing the poor,
What's their agenda ultimately for.
To line the pocket of a rich mate,
Is their purpose they designate.

We became mere modes of production,
Sees greed win, leads to our destruction.
But over our loss they will not worry,
Replacing us in their progress hurry.

The look of the dress
clean lines.
The feel of the dress
too snug.
The pattern of the dress
busy.
The colour of the dress
bright.
The cut of the pants
flared.
The shape of the pants
hipster.
The fabric of the pants
fake leather.
The sound the pants make when I walk
swish, swish.
The shape of the top
very sixties.
The feel of the top
smooth on the skin.
The fit of the top
too firm for me!
Time for me to remove them all.

Fiery red sunset
filterinng through my eyes.
Feelings on the surface
come as no surprize.

Hope has been renewed
options now arise.
Soon I hope to leave
this place that I despise!

Don't know yet where I'm going,
but it will eventually materialize.
All I have to do is wait,
in time the blessings will combine!

No one left to turn to,
but my heart holds no disguise.
I've given all I've got to give
I hope that time will fly!

Your vision opened star filled skies
when failing daylight closed your eyes
We watched you wade in wonderment
that, could it have been heaven sent
to waken you before the devil's rise

And did you hear an infant's cries
from darkened realms, unrecognized
between some here and lost event?
Your vision opened

Perhaps one day, you'll recognize
should you begin to fantasize
about how here may represent
the mist and starry firmament
Eventually, you'll realize
Your vision opened

The intense longing
Of a dead man
For his beloved

That naked lonely
Beauty

Who haunted
The lofty climbs of Leucadia

As much Afroditi
As Afroditi

Who gazed
On Adonis
With idolatry

In the north I have a friend
His scars are the same as mine
He held my hand once
And helped me through the darkness
So, on days like this
I think of him
And hope he's a little less broken

This year has been good
I've seen more rain than ever before
The land is covered in green
The rivers are flowing and the ponds are full
But how is it that in all this
My heart is desert dry?

My daydreams are like clumsy little thieves
poking about for something of value.

Have at it you rascals!

I have some time, and no reason
to put locks on the door.

Despite being an amateur
paperback writer wannabe,
whose storied protagonist
stars colporteur wannabe
(thinly veiled cover as yours truly),
whereby his antagonistic doppelgänger
donned as a frotteur trumpeting
animalistic, chauvinistic, egoistic,
averse to gradualistic, individualistic...
narcissistic, opportunistic hauteur
with a penchant for littérateur,
whose favorite genres
constitute the blending
(think Louis Pasteur)
of one criminally and mysteriously
hellbent expert pathologist,

New Year
New time to live
New dreams and new desires
New strength to avoid life’s trials
New Hope

i found a red light that turned to green
the moment i sped past

that hour’s train thundered above as
i threatened the glossy paint
against the stone trestle
of the railroad bridge

the fog of thinking dissolved on that
cold road as I watched it
consumed underneath,
seventy miles per hour
pulling the yellow snake
across the black

i thought about abbreviations
the way you squeeze otherwise respectable words
as you punch out the order for a classified