Fight For Your Right

Don’t give into the drama

Stay strong and persevere

Don’t let the problems hold you down

Or you’ll never go anywhere.


It’s an illusion

Meant to stop you

From being yourself.


Don’t let it.

Keep going.

Against convention

Against fear.

Against anger and frustration.


Fight for your dream.

Turn it to reality.


That’s all

There is to do.

Body and Soul

Slow and steady

Is the way life goes

It grows, flows

One day at a time.


No time machine

No invisible cloak

No secret potions

Or answers.


Hard work,


With resistance.


Sturdy legs

Of belief to stand on

Carry you through the world

Where eyes of reflection

Give you insight.


Lungs breathe in the passion

And the love flows through

Your heart to your body

That protects you.


Hands create

Your vision

And ears hear

The sweet sound

Of living.


Let it

Seep into you.

Feed you.

Restore you.

Killing Time

Trying to make things happen

But nothing seems to take.

I want to get

to that quiet place

where everything stands still

and you know just what to do.

You’re thrilled!
But no not me, myself, or I.

Like Midas’ reciprocal

I turn my things to shit.

I try to strive

Yet time and time

My efforts aren’t rewarded.

For now I think I’m done

I’ll sit here; killing time

while really time is killing me.



I didn’t want to write this story. It came out of years of desperation. Years of trying to claim my peace and never reaching it. Years of abuse and mistreatment. Years of stupid gullibility, of neglecting my dreams, of putting myself second so that others may love me. We only have one life to live and it is our choices that define our reality.

My mind, my body has bared all that it can. It no longer works in the conventional way but now seeks vacations every so often because it cannot handle what I have made of myself. No I’m not a prostitute drug addict but I’ve been treated like one, despised like one, seen as one and by no others than my own clan, my flesh and bone, my family.

I never did anything to deserve my treatment but such is life, it gives what it gives and we make due and survive.

But I wanted to thrive to fly with the best of them to reach the heavens and touch the stars. I wanted to be one, a shiny shimmering spectacle. A beauty, not a beast. But I am a beast. A monster. A deformed and challenged being. I cannot walk on my own two feet again and like a paraplegic I spend most of my days in bed wasting my time away. Not knowing which way to go and waiting for death instead. But the breath of life still lives in me and I cannot take it away. I hold no power over my life let alone my death.

And then I think it is my curse. My eyes have seen and it was not good. But I am a beast and not a God. I cannot undo what has been done. This is my place, my lot to work, to churn, mull over and turn. But how to turn, how to harvest in a land that has been soiled and has no more? The land is dry and there’s no water. A few weeds grow but even they do toil. Though I’m young I’ve been made old before my time and like a bruised and battered fruit I am no good and start to spoil.

The flower of my heart has wilted and bringing light into the dark and desolate corners of that world only pains my tired eyes. I have been raised in darkness and now that light is at my door I cannot see.

I am a wild and tainted beast. Who can love me? Not even me.


I am raw

A red and bloody stake upon your table

Meat and fat

I’m hard to swallow

Too real

Not dead yet

Almost twitching still as you stab at me with fork and knife.

Eat me, go ahead and cut me up!

We’ll see who stays alive and which one dies.