the immensity of loneliness is an empty note with no words letterless hence it can not be read never spoken of it merely lingers as an infinite singularity in the heart of existence . I leaned my forehead against your cold brick wall evoking the soundless roars behind the curtains…

THE PAST LIPS ARE NOT DECEASED Why not look at the beauty your memory holds,  so nourishing that light can be. The past’s lips are not deceased. Let them comfort you if they can.  – Kabir (c.1440 – 1518)  

Finding that your words are missing           did you rip them out?   Finding my own words are now missing         will they come back? Shards of acuity gone the ability to write bereft The austere void now present and my hand  …

Just like in dreams, we create when we are awake. We create love, we create suffering, we create death. We are the creators. With one movement I can go back to recreating thousands of years circle of my past lives Or I can opean my eyes, hear, feel, taste and…

the dusty corner where the tiny insect breathed its last is grayishly dark on this speckled evening with no sound or movement in a still temporal loop yet only a strand of cobweb reaches gently to touch your retina and captures a hint of your life essence . tonight I…

A fire burning feeding on black threads Sown into eyelids of all the corners Consuming time It is to breathe the slit air you cut with your hand through a window To look for words and finding them elsewhere elucidating in the fire pit Glowing when not a void appear…

A few days after existing I dreamt I was in a home in the middle of the night all alone to trade my heart for a stone . I thought she would walk away the cat watching at my gates but she has grown under the moon she is my…

Now submit.  Submit.  Sub mit.   To the hours, the stairs  the uncertainty of the floor tilting beneath your raised foot. To echoes of whirling voices, dissonance and rain bouncing  on borrowed graves. To pushing, pausing  wondering if this holds meaning  or sympathies for floppy haired fascism.    We do…

Crushed lips Colour me in every eye. Watching. With hands. Restless. Seeking. Accepting. Misunderstood. Soft Nests. With Every step Exeitment evokes. Cant conquer the tones of past rythms. Calm will find you. Through plumes douces et pierres. When the drop breaks Melts your skin. When the masses surround your foot.…

    You have nurtured beauty back to me   .   Sun full moons manifesting life moving air   .   Evoking a long missed touch, un-naming as children do while fires are spreading, sprouting fé in plasmatic eroding bursting ways as asteroids pass by;   I saw you…