New Again

Where do I belong?

I can’t really say.

The world is a strange place, full of uncertainty.
I never tire of seeking answers.

Looking for passion that comes with understanding.

And though I’ve known a great many things, I feel drawn from familiarity.

To wander out the door.

I’m at home in a strange land.


Season clawing at the window

Season standing at the door

Radiating cold

Watching the frost form

Branching out like ivy

Parallel reality, of straight lines, and spires that shimmer like glass when the sun breaches the horizon

The light holds little warmth in this place

Subzero clime

The Crystalscape

Humanity in Actions

“Suffering on a smaller scale is still suffering”
The thought didn’t cross my mind until an hour had passed
The moth still skittered and slid across the laminate, unable to fly
Its’ broken wing and battered body wouldn’t allow it
Beat after beat, those wings never ceased
The pain must have been unbearable
But who am I to end suffering?
Some compassionate reaper, or a child with a god complex?
I suppose the latter could apply in both cases
In the end, I took its’ life for a second time
First being the moment I swatted it from the sky
Destroyed its’ life without a thought
Curious that I could so carelessly cause suffering, yet hesitate to end it
I suppose that makes me far from compassionate, and much closer to death
Suiting for one who lives life like a spendthrift


I look up from the table

Laid before me, a feast of lies

They’d feed me ’til I’m full

Force feed me ’til I die

Dull my eyes, steal the air from my lungs

Crush me from the inside out

Crush me just for fun

Open up

My head explodes

Overflowing from the excess

Chaos reigns

Kill the host

Revel in the silence

Leave the table as it was

Bite the hand

Feed yourself for once

The Hard Season

Once defined, my mind begins to weather

Complexity less frequently ascribed to my endeavors

Tempered by repetition, the hammer strikes the stone

Rough shape

Edges unhoned

The Zirconium Man

Shimmers less brightly now

Facets danced like diamonds

Lustre gone to clouds

Proud days, passed and laid to rest

Lost dynamic



Brief Reign of The Undergrowth King

Flower in the undergrowth, bud closed in perpetual shade

Rare bloom, only seen in a night glade

Meadow hidden, high banks, greenbrier sting

Push through the forest, and there you will find me

Violet petals, set against black

Velvet monarch, my kingdom in the grass

In Tow

Paper elephants slumber in my head

Dreams of waking

Slow to rise from their beds

Emerging one by one from the point of my pen

Circus tents

Propped up on my desk

Endless parade in the ink

Procession unbroken

Another begins


Am I out of touch?

Out of step?

Out of depth?

How many fathoms down am I in this abyssal trench?

Questions met with silence

Too few swim the waters that I myself reside in

Shying from light, shying from eyes

Hiding on the ocean floor

Pass over me on route to unknown, distant shores

I’m a primordial echo

Trapped in a place where the past comes to settle

High Winds Weathering

Grande view

Lonely perspective

Raptor on its’ perch

Strange outlook

Aimless in its’ search


Taking note, but never wing

Flightless one

Pray, come to me

See my feathers, see my eyes

See my talons set to rest, razor beak dulled by time

Remind yourself, age takes pity on no earthly living thing

Neither beast nor man, or anything between