crusting the outer edges of my life
scabbing ,healing the wounds into scars...
time is running free
not shackled by me...
there are other ‘Me's’ lurking in the shadows...
who are hiding from the sunshine...
pen and nib, ink well and blotting paper
small boy and short pants...
addiction kills, it’s just a matter of time
rotten and festering, in the tears of lost hope...
we have a type of radar at work within us
some would call it intuition...
metaphors, imagery, and hyperbole are a poets...
articulating the ‘interruptions’ of pure...
As my raw, riotous song comes to an end
Lingering on the last passionate note...
frenzied piranhas
tear at the injured shark 'til...
The first road crossed and a start
With life's journey I embark...
My transgression
simply being born...
Kevin swaps his suit
each Friday for a dress and...