I am not ready to forget all the pieces of the...
that wheel is still in spin...
the savagery of man-woman kind, on display
let there be dark in your life...
age inflicts and time bites!
a fine line exists between perception and reality...
logic, a dream boat floating on a Tsunami
up was up and down was down...
a pocket full of rusty cions
the well is dry...
sperm is a legacy in transit
the space between words, filled with speculation...
some-times we need to fall on the ground,
to appreciate the view...
living in my mirror, is a different version of me
today’s fellow, who does not quit measure up to...
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...