WANTED WRITER

I am a social cowboy
riding society's range.
A pen in my holster,
protecting me from

unseen villains trying
to shoot us down.
Protecting my posse
from the shots taken

around the campfire
of the average. My ink
flows to prevent the
spillage of  ignorant blood.

LIVING CHOREOGRAPHY

Two wrongs never
make a right because
like in a magnet
repulsion is a product

of similarities. Destiny
is predictable despite
all efforts to alter
its formulations.

SAFE PASSAGE

Memories tender yet strong
warm the cold heart, frozen
by the present frigidity
spark the flames of

forgotten passions. The
ignition transforms hidden
revelations into transcendent
emotions relegated to

the sideline's of the
present reality. What never
was might have been,
only in a form not recognizable.

PRAYING FOR THE TRUTH. HOPING FOR A LIE

Free falling with the illusion
of a safety net or
maybe the illusion is
just an illusion

conspired to reflect the
shadows of monsters in
the mirrors of my life.
Providing a choreographed

dance of my destruction,
the recollection of interpretations
prohibit the possibility of
salvation from reality.

NO COMPASS

Traveling somewhere but
going no where with
only the memory of
a tattered road map.

Traveling alone but
not by myself.Off
to destinations unknown
with sudden departures

at the rapid speed of
slow motion held steady
by the mania of the moment.
Blinded by the light of the dark.

TECHNOLOGY OF PERCEPTION

Found out by Facebook
my mother is dieing again.
No longer part of the loop,
since my own death.

Despite my resurrection, I
never really lived again.
Miracles diminished by
wonders of modern reality.

Life lived out loud to
an audience that can't hear
my wavelength on the
current spectrum of distortion.

FACING REALITY

Knowing the future
provides little comfort
for the present when
the past haunts one's

reality. Embarrassment is
not shame but the
pain feels the same.