“THe Story Book”


Fragments of shattered mirror strewn about the loft. Papers tossed as if a hurricane had swept in challenging a night stalker. The devastation abandon, left for an unsuspecting arrival to discover finding only shock as if a bare wire sparked as it dangeled from the ceiling. But what was it that actually happened?

Sometimes it hard to distinguished between fact and fiction. The lines cross over between creativity and insanity. So who draws the line? Who can actually say………………What is true and what is only in the reality of the minds deepest dark corners of escape.

“Please click home and read on……”
You decide what is real and what is not.

Does the artist/writer become his work? Is it a self-fullfilling prophecy to become their vision.
Does the artist manifest his own success, his own demise?
Could it be strickly entertainment, food for thought from the corner of ones mind?

Thanks for stopping by enjoy the journey

” UNLESS WE ” image 2 of 2


Mirror mirror off the wall.
Seduced, sedated, spell cast until the fall.
Shattered slivers slice, skin popping, nodding, head bobbing, carpet crawling not magical at all.
Liquid bubbles melt into the white of a syrup syringe of false momentary euphoria.
I have made myself vulnerable. I have been used.
I have been drug through the dirt like a dog on a chain.
I have been left like a dog without a bone.
Spoon me you devil one last time.
Resurrected from the boulevard of saints and sinners, your visions vanish into the opaque shadows of addiction. Your transparent world melts, fading into a brownish hue of ash grey.
Shattered mirrors, absent rainbows, no color at all, only the taker of your soul the healer of no hole.
Fixin till death, unless we part.
Hope you found a new start.