I am stuck here in this place
Recalling your mournfull face
Perpetually losing the race
Infused daily with disgrace

To relive all my past mistakes
Till my life the devil shakes
If I should die before I wake
These memories you must take



I am small. It is dark. I fear not for I know my purpose. I feel the warmth around me.

First my legs, but not for walking
Longer and longer weaving and looping
Building a spider web into the unknown. Looking for knowledge and wisdom in every crevice that is the the blackness.
How will I get there. I do not know, but I know my purpose.

I can’t see up, but I know it’s there. I go for it. It’s very hard. With each little bit off growth I come closer to my goal. It gets warmer.
Then all of a sudden. I see the sun. So bright and inviting.

It calls to me. It says “Come closer flower child. I will make you mine.” So I go to it with all my might. I am slow but I am steady. I reach a moment where I can go no further and I just know that a transformation is coming. I know my purpose.

Tension starts to release. My fingers unfold their grasp. They release one at a time, slowly. As the last finger releases it’s strong hold, the breeze catches my petals, my fragrance slips through the air. I can finally see the world around me and all its beauty. 
I know my purpose. Do you?



Our love like a chess game.
Each player slowly and meticulously picking our moves.
Starts with a pawn, taking a bigger piece with each move.
Every piece painstakingly taken one at a time. Till there is nothing but two lonely kings. Stalemate. Perpetually gridlocked. The game is never truly over. And nobody ever wins.


dirty child

I am a child I like to have fun
Sliding and swinging all day in the sun

Laughing and playing not caring at all
Spin all around untill I fall

Into the grass where I lay with the bugs
Sniffing and poking at the slugs

Play in the mud like l am a hog
Go take a nap on slightly green log

Poke at the mushrooms that grow there
Pull some wet leaves out of my hair

I will get dirty that is no question
But it’s all part of my lifes lesson

I am a child please love me dearly
And make sure I shower atleast once yearly.


society’s eyes

This is my hypothesis
You might be quite conscienceless

I speak of this asthetic
Overwhelmingly cosmetic

The type of comprehension
That is causing me some friction

It overrules our molecules

I think we need to euthanize
and put to rest these material lies

For when the clock strikes quantum time
We’re all losing ephemeral rhyme

This type of understanding
Is becoming quite demanding

I think we must abbreviate
So that we may alleviate

Lets make reconciliation
And then begin the renovation

On society’s