Wings Turn To Amber

Solid ground, where are you now? I float above solitude’s sound. I float above, escaping the chaos. Clamoring patrons. Failing to fall for the false sense of…Happy now? Echoes in the chamber. Everyone is in the chamber - my wings turn to amber.

My soul is detached from my body. I hope she’s coming with the lightning. I’m sick of sitting here waiting, pausing, hoping for the end of our murder.
And the order is death.

Death defying diligence, perform magic. Get us out of here. The pain is powerful; a prowess. Arrogance altered by the current in my current state.
I sit looking backwards; forwards, with no words. The hype of the animal distorts me. I see me, I am me, there are no trees. Forever hungary. I feel me.
I am me.

My family.

Deceptive Eyes

Thoughts for hope.

The feelings obtained from audible sounds are truly moving and profound, but the beauty and grace from reflected light dance with my iris and play with my emotions. Sound takes you away to places inside that the image cannot, but the definition of the work is applied thru interpretation. When the light I see forms waves and cliffs; mountains and space, light and truth, and darkness and confusion, the motives emitted are rigid; definite.

Reflecting your image in truth and falsehood, a magic we enjoy, love, fear, and hate…but the story is truly universal. It lives within us and dances around us. Our story is our morning and our night. We are captivated by it, and yet we reject it. It is the touch on that very human distinction. We are more than the sum of our parts.

My heart beats, but it will beat for anyone. My stomach hungers and my fingers tremble, but what defines me is not the muscle that wraps my bone; not the skin that hides the muscle. It is not my eyes that can deceive…I truly am, at my core, more than physical. I am made of my parents love, and I am made peers companion. I am made of my teacher’s lesson, and I am made of my church’s conviction. I am more than I am. All together I am something more.

But I am not unique. You are your mother’s fear and your father’s strength. Your sister’s tears and your brother’s guidance. You are the regret of yesterday and hope for tomorrow, and you are so much more. We are our story. We are our past, we are our present, and we are our future. The light that dances before us, when the story is projected, we see ourselves.

We place our past on the screen, along with our hunger and our fear. We place our present along with our fatigue and our intelligence, and we place our future with our hope.

You could assemble a human but you could never assemble a soul. Soul building cannot be taught. We share the blood of our class. We share the trials of our generation, and we all share our one common soul.

We look on staring with deceptive eyes.

I Am My Tragedy

I am my tragedy

Encapsulates; escapes me.
Bone regarded as the statue statute
and the flesh falls off of the test salt flat.

Bring in my sorrow tree.

Pick a leaf and weep with me.

Feel my pain and feel my glee.

Break a bone not known to thee.

My heart's ablaze, Forward with my pride.

Lay me under in part malign.
Hollow under; solid over.

Roll me over; I am tower.

Into forever; Never better, 

I follow the curves of ground.
I fold in.

Push from top; stop! 

Let me follow thru on days overt. 

Lean left; follow up; downshift churn.

Statue Statute crumbled fall.


End of days for catacomb protein.
Hollow fulfillment.


Enter environment; become what is near.

Slowly turning, crunching gear.
End of life is just first gear.
The other I begins tonight.

Ripple rustic raw completing.

Wave of dust mimic sand and oxygen.

A day goes by and still the turn is shy. 

Goodbye.

Wake! Shake the ground under my Statue. 

Rattle the flesh fall far from bone.

Sink in my knees under tomorrow’s city.

I am this life; this existence endurance.