Demons
I told themm
this time im serious
im not playing
with u anymore
they laughed so hard
they started to puke
i told themm
"nono"
u dont get it
its me who
gives u
all the power
they pretended to
laugh
even harder

Blonde Redhead - In Particular (Live HQ).

Sigh merely shrugged. "In any event it is too late. You are special. Bots will not change that. You have tried many times to turn away. It is your destiny. You already know this. When you were in those films, that man told you. Do you remember? Do you remember? That man was me..."

Keiko remembered instantly. It was the last adult film she ever did. It all came flooding back. She had been shooting all day long, scene after scene, crying between takes, when suddenly the man above her began whispering something into her ear. Images of snow falling on high mountain meadows cooled her sweat drenched body. The place were they were joined together suddenly felt like two little children running beside the tumbling alpine stream, cool and clear. Dressed only in linen robes, their bare feet glided over frostywhite, jagged boulders; they jumped and lept from one precarious perch to the next, singing haunting melodies that echoed off steep cliffs of rock and ice. As the latespring storm covered freshly bloomed wildflowers, they abruptly stopped and turned towards each other. Flower, song and mountain merged them together as mother earth.

And then she was alone, back on the darkened set, a towel hastily thrown over her desecrated body. They had simply left her there.

Instantly she knew something was growing inside her. The laughter of little ones silently ringing in her soul. Her eyes flooded with tears.

Excerpt from Speaking in Tongues.

silently I pad through

sensual patches of

snowcovered forest

spirit boughs towering

above solitary tracks

alone I seek

only what I can

kill and

eat.

So essential iam

to this fragile

place and it barely

knows of

my existence:

it never sees me

knows nothing of me

even as I sink

my teeth into its soul

frozen blood on

snowy paths

that come from nowhere

                                      and go noplace.

Lynx Poem

Empty Canvas

My life is an empty canvas
I paint what I wANT
The traffic does not paint,
the weather does not paint
my canvas
I can put anything I want on my canvas...
or can I
?
?
How much do I
depend on
the sun for warmth
the people around me
for life
I can no more
go thru
life

alone

than a garden
can tend itself

Spring Poem