How does a landed mariner ever tell a living soul about the exquisite rapture of the sultry siren’s song ? As it echoed through the mist,

Look out there, see them, boy ? They want yer juice. They’re dry, them circlin’ desert… All they want's yer juice, boy.

From the first remembered breath, I was running to escape. I didn’t need a map. It didn’t matter which direction. It hurt too much for any fool to s…

What lingers within me is ancient… prepared for the worst of all poss… No matter how deeply I rest while… it’s forever awake, coiled and rea… It seems to be from before there w…

I was addressed today in the secret silent language that everyone knows; except for me. It was assumed I’d know exactly

I was surrounded by many desperate, troubled people. There was much drinking, drugging, and violence. Women were being bought and sold,

It seems for ages, I have been trapped behind yet another version of what I want to think I know. I was so sure I loved you

Not a poem. I hurt; like a Frankenstein monster. Iron fist. Unrelenting.

Is there any way I might touch yo… that doesn’t skim right off the su… of your exquisitely contrived vene… Is there a plea which I might utt… that would stir you from within?

Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within

He’s been around the block and even toured the world, with scars upon scars to show from many a hard-fought battle. Yet like many old dogs