Category Archives: poems

The Knot

Where You Are

I won’t end up the same place
The worlds are shuffled constantly
Snow cold flakes…my shaven heart
I should be what and where you are
My quiet star, wingless one weeping in the dark

Here to see it happen, your death I endure
A betrayal for which I should suffer most for
Abandoned, beaten, re-torn and bleeding more
Arrested soul – the shadows curse
An inner light to scrape and scorch
Your meaning never replaced

My will never restored
A fresh, cutting grief be daily reborn

How is home? Center winds from which all chaos was blown
How given are the waters where from the roots of time still grow?
Wrapped within a truth of truth and purely collected
Vastly far out and unwound
At Beginning and End

Ever many times I decide to end my lives
For the faith from you I have failed to realize
The exalted, forgiving love to me you always meant
I will find my way to you once again


The painting above was meant specifically for this poem, a kind of symbol representing some of the lines. There’s a worry I’ve had since childhood that is the foundation of the poem itself, and I think I’m completely put to ease now through what I’ve written. It’s helped far more than I expected.


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I know I said I would make it
Somehow I would get by and
Wake up again with the sunrise
The day it doesn’t feels so wrong to try

But less often now do I remember why I
Cared so much to compromise
I recognize your hue
You’ll understand then fade from view
The truth I’ve uncovered leaves our world without a sky
You can’t follow me and there is no where to hide

No treasure rests at the heart of my memories
I have learned to look at them and feel nothing
It’s no longer within me to grieve
One more loss among so many

You are better off left behind


The image above is years old, I just went back and got a better shot of it. I used to do a lot of strange flower type drawings and this one has always made me think of solitude or reminds me of being a loner.The poem was basically a stream of thought that came about while listening to a song. Thoughts about people, disconnection and how far apart certain things can make us. I just needed to write.

I haven’t been doing too well lately. I’m afraid long past mistakes I’ve made are out to ruin my life now. But I’ve surprised myself with the writing I’ve started on. It seems I’m searching for a way to say something that’s been waiting to be told, so I can’t say I’m finished just yet.

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The Only One


Everyone is wearing their faces
Safe and fearlessly stuck in their places
And all I want is to take off my mask and swear
‘For all that is left in me, I WON’T CARE ‘

And laugh away my past
Give away all I have
For today and the rest of days
Shadows of light will separate
And night will fill my emptiness
Night be my escape
Find my way from here

The taken years; we are told to never let go
You claim I am no good now that I’ve said no
It is fair; if I have fallen, I am not the sort you miss
You won’t read between my lies,
You’ll not save me from my secret
I must cover up instead, even once the tears turn red
My screams of breath from this blood we share
For all that is left in me, I won’t care…

I remember a time when I knew love
When the warmth of our sun left not a scorch of sky above
When life was in everyone’s eyes and to dream should have been enough
But it came to be that all I would dream was everything I shouldn’t want
You look at all I’ve done,
You fear what I’ve become

By sharp edges of broken glass and how these memories will pass
Please leave me the only one


It’s my fourth attempt at drawing that portrait. I’m sure if I’m still here in another year I’ll look at it and be completely appalled at the inaccuracy…lol Took about two weeks on and off. The poem beneath it started out as one thing then I don’t know. I’m just leaving it as is and probably won’t have it go with any music. Time’s running out and I’m okay with leaving somethings alone now.

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Break Through


How will you remember?
The trees and buildings aren’t so tall
And the marks were never marks at all
And you don’t have forever

All the people you owe will make sure you pay up
You seek the darker places once burned by the sun
And friends leave you to your thoughts just long enough
As abandonment sets in and you forget your reasons

Distracted by the trees creeping around where you are
The ground beneath is so soft it feels right to sink, and you hear
The wind and shade dance and sing
Toward the bright death they’ve been watching,
Another dead star just lit up from afar

Don’t see your need to worry
No one wonders where you’ve gone
For the old world you search on and on, but with this dream
And all that haunts is right where you belong

Only ever lost when you wait for them to find you
Within all things you remember you are not


I worked with a sketch I did a few months ago to create this painting. It’s done on ply wood and the idea behind it is basically about breaking through an image that is unreal and forced and letting the true self emerge from beneath. I wanted a certain strength/wisdom and sense of freedom to come across here so I used blue for its symbolic meanings. The black is used in this way too for purity, authority and truth biting through the flesh and surrounding the eye filled with light. My thought being the dark is always there beyond all light and all light comes from it, so here it’s meant to represent ultimate truth. The whole idea of wearing masks and pretending for others has really stuck with me the last few months in my drawings and for the most part I do like where it’s taken me and what I understand.

The poem I thought went well with what I’m trying to get across in the painting. Knowing what you are and being alright with saying no to what others say you’re supposed to be or do in this life. I don’t have to be where they are or want what they have and it’s never been worth it to pretend otherwise.

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I Get In My Own Way

A Life Enough

A life
But not alive enough
Falling completely and with all love
I’ve long stopped trying to reach above
The sick and quiet I was spun from

Another bone slammed against an edge
Why hurt me when I can simply hurt myself?
There is always something on the floor
With something ugly at my door
My dead face – forever yours

You get into everything and become all of me
The only reason not to live I know I’ll ever need
You are behind saying I won’t knowing that I must
You move me far beyond the cusp
Beyond cut down and broken up

Your moments feel too much
With images of blood and
The sounds of a soaked crunch
Always at my ear; my fill of shame is clear
It’s not right I am still here


The painting above is older, I just went back and got a much better shot. The poem is newer actually. I recently finished editing many of the latest ones and they have a different vibe to them as many were my attempts to write lyrics. I suppose I’m talking to my “shadow” in this particular one. Sums up my state of mind well enough at the moment. More of the same…


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Taken From

Taken From

No one cares

Contentment fades
The soul decides what blood it takes
From these conflicts and problems of everyday

From my living for the grave

Confused, aren’t you? When I appear
The one with a voice always too low to hear
She knows there is no more to say

You’d die before you’d ever change

And they want all from me; stripped worthless at their word
I take enough from the hurt but I beg for the worst
Smothered within this fog

I’ve watched unmoved for far too long


I wanted to paint another flower. I had a hard time working out what I’m trying to say with it here, but it’s close to representing how surroundings can strip or drain the best out of something that used to thrive. Or the reverse as in the surrounding world being toxic, draining the life. The darker green and pattern on the inside going against the jagged bright shapes all around…trying to keep a sense of control when it’s already too late for that, but I’m just thinking too far into it. Never mind.

The poem is now also a song. I gave it the same title as this painting just out of the similarities I see exist in the message of both. The beginning lines are old scraps from years ago that I wrote but couldn’t find a place for. Just recently did I finish tying up those loose ends and make sense of them in some way. For whatever reason, I couldn’t just throw them all out like they probably should be.

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The Whisperer

Ever Reaching

The dead heart a common no one flings across the room
Full of a crowd it was, so what else would they do?…

Its nasty splatter of runny blood and tale of the journey
I wonder why I’m here for this, but I am poorly fed
How they waste me
Like picky eaters and their crust-less bread

This time I will be thorough
Any possible uproar will first have its locked door
Take that hint; I won’t have a note to slip
It’s far too real once congealed blood breaks the fast
And sunlight’s ever reaching tongues can taste at last

It would not think to refuse, there is no going back
With no one coming after me and nothing more to add
You will never witness the scenes between yes, no and might
But it’s time you take heed.
Stop believing I won’t try.


The painting is a random idea I had to draw a whispering voice. The background section represents an ear and the way the voices seem to always be there saying what they say. And the poem below it says nothing new except in a slightly different way I guess. I worked on it for a while, let it sit for a few weeks then finished it finally.

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