truth of poetry



New book of poetry

If you enjoy the prose of The lizard king and the odes of T.S Eliot. The outer perception of William Blake. Check out the new full length book of poetry.  Out now!!!
Titled “The beauty of mystery” by Dorian grey


Check it out at any online seller of books!! 


5 spoken word tracks

Adrift,( remove this)

restless rift

all just floating on a raft of anxiety and nervous pleas

paid the fee to cross the mindless state of america

Hysteria burns through the plains and pains of flight or fight

remove this

remove this

remove this

life’s kiss is a “miss” understood rose or maybe thorns

when Horns pierce the side

Porn covered on all channels of snowy T.V.

restless minds

all kinds of binds and times

all adrift on a raft


Is suicide the answer?

Does it make you feel human?

Does it make you feel alive?

or is it all for fake fame, all to be forgotten by the loved ones?

Buried under a blank grave, not a white washed tomb but a waste of marble and dirt

What is suicide?

but only a cry for help and self loathing

or the inescapable  feeling of “you are only human

Is suicide for a name or just to receive shame?

To try and achieve Fame is suicide is its purest form

maybe there is a calm after the storm

Suicide is just Lame porn for the weak to beat off to

and die far from the answers, far from being human

Suicide anyone?

A portrait

I am this Cynical, Sadistic, Independent old Grime of a child 

Who can’t see past his own nose, in-spite of all my experiences and experiments 

Team player has died into me 

Blackened & Poison filled man 

Who can only see the False, the Fake silver lining in the brightest summers warmest day of Love 

And how you ask?

I’ve been asking that same question every day 

& still NO answer has become alive

Fatal America

Sleepless nights 

Fatal America 

Cynical statements to proclaim power of ignorance 

The calling cards 

Fake documents with Branded seals 

This is America…. The Great, The Power, The Fake, The Laughable nation 

Notions of 

Broken scenes to cover the paper trails 

Soliders to bury the innocent and Praise the ignorant 

Fatal America 


I don’t Drink

I don’t do Drugs

I don’t smoke Cigarettes

I’ve died quicker then I’ve lived

Confined in just a Room

Confined in just my Mind

Come & fined these Teeth 

Come & Fined all these Scars

Bled dry by the razor blades, stuck, in bedded into flesh that I cut away 

I don’t Bleed 

I don’t Cry 

I don’t feel Human 

I deny my instincts 

I deny my Emotion 

I hide my Heart 

I chain my Soul, to the same blade that scared my flesh 

with no character and smile



The Whys and who’s

Why do we do what we do?

Are we just pawns in this chess game, we call life?

and if so, why are we always in check mate? 

Why do we say what we say?

Is it a defensive camo or actually a breath of fresh air?

Are we here to be watched or just to be lost?

Why is it that emotions run high? When they were never in control of these souls.

It is human to live by emotions or is it human to live with the knowing of when to take control of said emotions?

Who’s doing this? Who’s moving these pieces of 8 around this never ending circle? 


Im not the savior your looking for

How can you believe in such a fool?

What a decision of the poor

Nature even calls me the lost

I cant be a savior when im sinking lower then davey jones’ locker

draw my name in the sand muddy and washed away by the sea

I’ll bring you closer to the start, I’ll bring it further from its heart

and I know you love him but ill show you aside which u cant unseen

with lights growing dim and I’m the siren in the sea which will never be the savior your looking for and the one real key

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