Tuesday, July 14, 2009


Here's my stab at poetry:

Blind judgements
Red eyes
Is there any truth
Storied tales or lies?
High handed words
I feel the blood boil
My heads on fire
My body a funeral pyre
Mind blown up
Fast asleep at the wheel
Clean out of luck
Tell me what's real

Say hello when you take the trip
Snakes alway's in a coil
The spirit will strike lickity-split
I get tired
As the blood boils
And the flames move quick
As the blood boils Print Friendly and PDF

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