the phantom in it’s grotto grins upon a hexed cushion that stinks and smothers. Excessive rhythmic noise pounds gracelessly on my vestibule doors leaving fingerprints green with envy and moss. Reality flares, distress signals, sparking a heated tumbling and there is one choice ………..to embrace transparency …..or ……..shut ………my ………………eyes
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
poetry that speaks to you
The Poetry Monarch.
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.
