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The Poetic Terrorist
There is a flower in the woods whose sweet scent drives me mad and i thought her a telling match to you. So there i went to harvest the moon and stars from the sky... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
Helen is My friend? I met her in the air, We dwell there: in formless freedom of imagined space. Long she's been without a face but in my dreams And how phantasmal must her angel... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
The day shall come where it shall be profitable to be unprofitable The day shall come when the prophets will rise and the prophets shall say it shall be profitable to be unprofitable and the... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
Children of the Sand Fearless in their innocence Children of the sand the game of Fear a passtime and sweet satire in immitation, soft mirrors of an illusion so easy to dismiss that they believe... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
The Light of Cities To write about the light of cities, the type they make for sake of sight in darkened times to ward off crimes or unforseen collisions on the roads which forbode a... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
Intensity vs Subtlety I have met and heard the Word! I found it odd, but then, so does God. Such sacred intensity heeds my call But trust me I would trade it all to hear... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
Some Talk of Spirit I'd talk about my spirit, how it glides or soars or lingers but I think my spirit's hiding cause I've never once seen it I've heard it not nor smelt it... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
Over a Smoke (to my good friend, Shlee [pic]) As I smoke a cigarette I burn my life away. They say we have many I've a pack. I've lived this life nor do I recall... More »
The Poetic Terrorist
The poor, lost skeptics The poor, lost skeptics, will they ever wonder, wonder if this moment and the next one are somehow well connected or whether there was only one between the stories that we... More »
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November 2009 
