My head is full of the voices of the soul. My heart is overrun with the lectures of my dreams; the particles of the past channel through my veins. Sunday, March 16, 2014. Were echoes of my fated past,. Broken heart and contrite soul. At once I voiced such tepid thoughts. And thence they came to be. But, what once intended to detail. Became a part of me. Cold grey stone to cell. Thy conversion hath reduced me. To unstable, plighted shale.

Shipwrecked by an unexpected storm. heart and soul in shards. yet living in honor of kai edward. Monday, June 16, 2014. Grow, little flower, reach for the light,. Your sweet little spirit forever will bloom. Glow, little star, tucked into the heavens. Cradled with care in the curve of the moon. Blow, little leaf, to a beautiful place. Safe in the sheltering arms of a breeze. Four years ago, that is enough.

Poetry often enters through the window of irrelevance. Mission Reunion and The Cone of Doom. Can you find him? At first the cone made Jetta afraid of everything, especially the kitchen floor. Once she got used to it, Jetta started ramming into our legs w.