Bio

Truth is lost to a man the first time he notices the soft jaw line and elegant neck of a women and he sees that essence of art which resides in her eyes that is absent from his and all those of men.


There It Is

So much spilled wine, with only the memory of a sip
Few notes are as sour as when age catches the “Hip”

Too cool for school spawns only the cold and dumb
Pathetic attempts to touch others long after the hands are numb

The cold dark is safe without contrast to show truth or lies
The sunlight is warm, but exposes you to your own ruthless eyes

And what of her, does she also hide among corpses far from the fight
Would she judge my self imprisonment in this lonely twilight?

How I hope she’s shed her chains and her heart frolics free
And there it is, there it is , some love still remains in me