Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
Anxiety of Me
This place of fear, what if, whose looking, what will they think is all in the mind...yes, it is real...it is real, place in me courage
Savage (Nowhere to Hide)
Thump, thump Can you hear it? Thump, thump That’s your savage heart trying to escape your chest You’ve caged the animal for years for fear of what it would do
Shutter, the music, The lilac and lavender Faith, come undone Like a viral scavenger The day is new Yet the sky is dark
As I stare out of the foggy window at the storm of the century on a day as grey as my fleeting heart, I pick up the forty-five on the window sill.
Last Smile (The Pale Man)
The Pale Man looks out into the pouring rain through the window of a broken down tenement attic, sitting on the floor holding a bottle of Sailor Jerry’s.
We can dish it out but that means we have to take it when it comes back around... It's time to keep it real with the world freely outspoken and boundlessly astound...
Virgo Becomes Me
I am free from rules I am creativity Virgo becomes me the earth is my ground the sun is my forever Virgo becomes me
The screams echo through these hollow walls. The fungus on the ceiling pours its rancid tears, deteriorating and eating the brittle wooden floorboards.
I know why I’m here. This place is the only thing that’s real. These walls are dilapidated and crumbling, moss and roaches festering the foundations.
May the Odds, Forever, Be in Your Favor
You take us in with your smile and make us fall for your southern charm. (not thinking that someone so beautiful could do such harm)
What Do You See...
Forgery...a copy...unoriginal...deceptive...a con. I feel that when I look at my work sometimes, that in capturing an image of my subject I have in fact copied it...but not perfectly. I have added my own interpretation of it through my composition and styling, and with my forged image I give new perception to my subject, possibly changing its original existence forever. I seek truth through my lens and want to capture my subjects as they are, but also as I see them. I am a photographer...an artist...a forger? What do you see?
The lights fade, hiding the cracks and lines on my face. No longer do I have to close my eyes to block out the gazing souls,