left like dead

patterns darkly bragging
ink vanishes as the viper gleams
unchained reflections reflect
upon nights lonely kill
grimly, sad and clear
venomous pain sags heavy
down the heart beat and heart broken
unwanted
no love
no time
no effort for the dead

truth lies in blood streams of screams
shadows that flee warmly, crazy
the cold resurrection barks
machine gun round of stammer
gutless gypsies rain down
abandoned love floats helpless
somewhere
nowhere
unwanted
the bewildering black
illuminates dark

 

The Sacred Nine

One- on- one mixed-media art lessons in Los Angeles

Voice over Work

‘Cause talking is better than working

From My Reading

I spend a lot of time pondering what it all means.

Michael Lachman Writes

A Writer's Musings (And Likely Some Shameless Self-Promotion As Well)

Eclectic Theist

An outlet for my random thoughts and interests

I wonder, if I draw a line...

where would it flow...

Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment Monday thru Friday and featuring a Short Play Saturday Matinee to read.

Life in Poetry, Prose and Pictures

Tales From The Life Of A Soul