Category Archives: poet


as he sits night after all alone , with tv dinners drinking rut gut beer, he feels isolated. He sits in a room with 4 walls, he trys to interpret his dreams , they are dark and full of violence. … Continue reading

Posted in Adult, beer, dark, death, depression, Drugs, fantasy, life, pills, poet, pot, Rant, rebellion, sad, soul, suicide | 1 Comment


Rhonda, I catch myself digging though musty old boxes, to find old photographs of you, trying to figure out where i went wrong. I know nothing i can do will bring you back, It’s just treasures of my past.

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I love to confront my mind with questions I am a artist I am a word lover I am a poet with a vision

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Thomas Carlyle

I enjoyed this hope you all do as well Of all the things which man can do or make here below by far the most momentous wonderful and worthy are the things we call Books By Thomas Carlyle

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