Can’t get too close,
nor far apart;
these crowded beds
yield orphan hearts.
Pages torn-
my leaves that fall,
complaints embrace,
then raise the wall.
god’s blinding eye;
blasphemed, disgraced,
and compromised.
A blistered promise,
i require,
consumed by doubts
and base desires.
To speak aloud,
these fears I foster,
which sprout today
yet bloom tomorrow.
An eye of needle,
wasted breath,
you passed the course,
but failed the test.

*illustration by Vladimir Kush 


A darkened cloud
upon my brow,
(where loss consumes
each vagrant hour).
The dismissed rules
disguise the truth,
(ignored, forgotten, and refused)
with brittle skin of threadbare tulle.
This narrative i must neglect,
this endless nagging rhetoric;
and burning feet
on sandy beach-
the screaming rises to its peak.
my spirit bent
and knees are weak

and prayers that signal mortals end
a succubus,
my only friend.
in poverty
and grim repose
I watch the ashes churn and blow
and bury every cruel lament
(the guilt is mine,
i must confess)
and shelve this tragic,
Sordid tome,
where devils thrive
and beggars roam.
Elusive feathers fall and rise
to soothe the decomposing tides.
the path is twisted,
gutter stones;
the rest are dreams
and scattered bones.

Wasting Flowers

Scentless as a withered bower

counting seasons,

wasting flowers.

committed to be unaware,


without a care.

to speak of frantic,

feigned attractions-

ignoring charming, 

wistful banter.

bleeding on your crippled roots,

lament of martyrs:

  “ill repute”

these gnarled insults

you have proved

have scarred your victims,

  and the brute.

Confused by effortless derision,

Enamored by these dark suspicions;

Alone I rip you from the earth,

A rotting seed…

   for what it’s worth.