Subjective, not empirical

These Old Bones...

The cracked yellow teeth fill my mouth...

I stare at the gun

It's singular eye stares back at me...

The ache...

Tripping down the trail,

Skipping merrily.,,

In the lushness that is the Pacific North West

There are mountains, trees

States of mind

Devoid of anything close to being human

She walks in the shadow between worlds

Not listening to anyone or thing

Not caring for anyone or thing

Her red nails grasped at my breasts

The petite mouth, with it's feverant tongue

lapped at my lips

Her smell permeated my consciousness

smooth face

long hair

in the parking lot

as others looked on

lost only in each other

as only women can with one another

Wrote this in the late 90's I think, during a period of staunch introspection.  Now on Helium...

I am the Shadow that Walks Between Worlds...

Another old/new piece that I lifted from one of my old websites and put on Helium

Beyond Existance

A very much older piece, I wrote this in '99 or so, as memory serves.  On Helium now:

Madness is my lover...

An older piece of mine, on Helium now:

Poetry: The Ocean

I was really pissed when I rattled this one off, but also frustraited at the lack of an outlet as well.  I think it was inspired by two of my coworkers having a very verbal spat in a very public place.

layers of fury,

rage rage rage...

Another Haiku, again written at work.  During this point in my life I was working for a large medical corporation, and its' windows overlooked a hospital and snow was about to fall.

bare blank winter trees...