Below you will find a mixture of prose, poetry, random thoughts and a variety of images including some of my favorite music videos. The icons above will take you to my other social media pages. Click the blue button on the right to subscribe to this blog and receive posts in your reader.
But most of all enjoy your time here 🙂
In Dante’s Inferno
there is very little fire.
At the center of it all, evil is trapped under ice.
(I feel that freedom must be a double-edged sword.
Because then you can be alone and separated
from the world.)
Anxiety is love
that has no means of expression.
Life has a way of grinding you down
until nothing remains beyond despair.
Yet this despondency is merely the dark half
of the satellite that orbits this life.
What soft face gazes upon us
in our nocturnal hours: hope
light undimmed by eternity.
The only guilt within me is imaginary,
of what I could have done but haven’t
or wanted to but didn’t.
Are we who we are or who we
tried to be?
Nothing is set in stone,
except perhaps for the occasional fossil.
No man is an island unto himself,
though I’ve known a few peninsulas.
There are no absolutes in life,
except for the fact that there are no absolutes.
I may be talking nonsense here,
but sometimes it’s the only sensible thing.
I have recently revived my other blog which is called The Box Ajar. It’s mostly a social and political commentary blog. However, I might do other things with it as well. Take a look if you’re into that sort of thing. I’d appreciate it.
I awoke in the early hours before dawn,
a question ringing in my waking mind:
“I don’t know who I am, only who I’m not;
Is that enough?”
(Author’s Note: This is a reworking of a poem from 2015. The original version can be found here.)
You ask me to justify my desire;
I don’t know its rhyme or reason.
“Why?” is ambered in your eyes.
I wish instead of questions, I found answers
cascading from a depth of feeling, a rush
of momentum no less than mine.
I can only assure you that I want you in my life,
and that I believe your presence within it
will only nestle love softer within us.
The rains returned after an absence long enough
to make the world’s yearn for moisture
a distant memory.
insatiable momentum, a burning death,
the Phoenix of vital desperation,
the spur of trembling into the earth,
so thirst: the deep howl of mourning
. . . )
I was unprepared. No one teaches you
to fear the mere passage
Still, I think this is one of my better bits of scripting.
Love is the great dent in the armor
of the hero. No one can save you;
you can only save yourself.
makes even the most flawed person
feel like they can save the whole