my hands are pungent cupping my face I inhale golden ochre fills me my heart a newly forming bowl on the wheel moistened now by the rich echo of a smell I can taste forming still… I lick my hand and drive my time machine back to 1978 a hot summer with brittle trees againstContinue reading “time perfume”
All That Glitters Is Not Gold
it is all just bullshit anyway.....
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything
Poetry
musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry
In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.
Scripting the desires that are soul deep
material
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Daily blog posts on life, death, and everything in between.
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Pain goes in, love comes out.
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
