Category Archives: Poetry
I’m working on editing a play I wrote some years ago based and inspired by Alice in Wonderland. A theatre friend of mine loved it, so, I guess that I’ll get it edited, possibly published, and maybe offer it for free in a pdf format to college students for their thesis plays. Maybe. What do you guys think?
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Leave a comment | tags: Alice in Wonderland, Asylum, book, crazies, creative writing, play, playwright, playwriting, script, writing | posted in Adult, Dark, Dark Overall, Plays
Hello, my loyal fans. I have published an anthology of fourteen authors entitled Murder by the Letters: 26 Terrible Tales.
It is available on Amazon only right now, but it will be up on other sites soon enough.
Its available here.

“Murder by the Letters” is a collection of short stories created by a deeply prolific and diverse group of authors. The book not only showcases different voices and styles, but also presents a wide spectrum of genres, characters and topographies. Big cities, small towns, college campus, foreign countries, men, women, children, pets… they are evidence that any place can become a murder scene, while anyone can fall victim, not to mention, when it comes to deadly weapons, whether they are of conventional nature or not, the possibilites are infinite. Bottom line, anything can be lethal, even the alphabet. 26 letters, 26 crimes, 14 writers with homicide in their brains.
Leave a comment | tags: 26 terrible tales, alphabet, anthology, authors, book, fourteen, fourteen authors, letters, murder, murder by the letters, terrible tales | posted in Book
My book of poetry, “Doll Maker” is now on the Barnes and Noble website.


The Doll Maker is taking women off the street and turning them into dolls before killing them. Will he be caught?
You can find it here.
It is also on CreateSpace, Amazon in paperback and on Kindle, Powell’s Books, and on ebay.
My second book of poetry, “Duskhouse Player” is available on Amazon as a paperback and Kindle.

Life is a series of random events laid out by Fate. Poetry is the paintings of her face. Duskhouse Player takes the random parts of life and pulls them out of a hat to give you a different experience in poetry. Its joyful and sorrowful.
Leave a comment | tags: Amazon, author, b&n.com, barnes and noble, book, book of poetry, book promotions, createspace, doll maker, duskhouse player, Kindle, poems, Poetry, promotions, published, The Doll Maker, writer, writing | posted in article, Book, Poetry, Promotion, Written from Life
My second book of poetry, Duskhouse Player, has been published through Amazon.

Life is a series of random events laid out by Fate. Poetry is the paintings of her face. Duskhouse Player takes the random parts of life and pulls them out of a hat to give you a different experience in poetry. Its joyful and sorrowful.
Purchase the Kindle edition here, and the paperback edition here.
1 Comment | tags: Amazon, author, book, book of poetry, Kindle, paperback, Poem, poet, Poetry, published, random events, write, writer, writing, written | posted in Dark, Genre, Light, Poetry, Written from Life
The books pile high
and the military
becomes the police force.
Torches in every man’s hand.
I hide, watching.
Skyscrapers once reached
to the heaven.
Now, they are crumbled.
Pictures, not withstanding,
no one remembers.
With no choice, but survival
they turn to him,
the man with the torch,
setting the books on fire.
I watched.
Leave a comment | tags: apocalypse, book burning, books, End, Poem, poet, Poetry, survival, tyrant, write, writer, writing | posted in Dark, Dark Overall, Poetry
Hell is a place for the Christians
after death. That is not my home.
My body will lay among
the roots of the fields,
which will grip my flesh,
and worms will break my body apart.
My soul will see no fire.
Flames cannot harm me,
because I do not believe
in a place where you are punished
for mistakes you are supposed
to learn from.
A scatting will let
me pass through
the veil,
where I will learn my lesson,
and be reborn.
Leave a comment | tags: fire, flame, Hell, pagan, paganism, Poem, poet, Poetry, reincarnation, Summerland, write, writer, writing | posted in Light, Poetry
I wish there
had been a physical
slap across my face
Don’t talk to your Nana
that way! She’s not a dog.
Then what am I?
A physical pain
assaults me when the shout
comes without warning.
If you break that dryer,
you’ll be sorry.
I already wished
I wasn’t born.
Leave a comment | tags: born, dark poem, family, grandfather, grandmother, grandpa, grandparents, nana, physical pain, Poem, poet, Poetry, write, writer, writing | posted in Dark, Poetry, Written from Life
There once had been nothing
beneath black wings,
flapping with all my might.
No wind today.
An egg lays ready to hatch,
but ruffled feathers
have been plucked before
it arrived. No wind, still.
When the shell cracks
and falls apart, squished
face has green eyes blinking
against the harsh light
and the beak-mouth opens
wide. Shrieks call out. Breeze.
The larger beak-mouth could
not reach for wailing
chick, numbed from surgery
and drugs. The one whose movements
were not hindered reached
for the fluff. There is wind today.
Leave a comment | tags: Baby, bird, black feathers, black wings, chick, crow, feathers, metaphor, Nest, nesting, Poem, poet, Poetry, ruffled feathers, write, writer, writing | posted in Light, Poetry, Written from Life
The breeze ruffles my hair
like an older sibling,
trying to tease.
The trees dance with leaves,
flitting around on their stems.
Petals from the Sakuras
land at my feet. They
are the rain. I see
why they are honored
every year in Japan.
The snows have passed
away from bright,
yellow light that burns
my eyeballs. I can’t see
the pink downpour.
The Cherry blossom trees’
flowers are gone,
proof that Spring
has come to Roanoke.
Weather be damned.
Leave a comment | tags: breeze, Cherry Blossoms, petals, Poem, poet, Poetry, rain, Sakura, seasons, siblings, snow, Spring, trees, weather, wind, write, writer, writing | posted in Light, Poetry, Written from Life
Nice family.
Fixin’ a pie.
All Mistah J
and I wanted.
B-man ruined it.
Puddin’s dead.
I had to run
for it, escaping
the flames.
Lived in hiding,
keeping away
from B-man,
had a girl
in a pretty
pink crib.
She grew up,
gave me granddaughters,
the Dee Dees.
Troubling duo,
twins in the fights,
always in jail.
Leave a comment | tags: batgirl, Batman, batman and robin, batman beyond, batman the animated series, harleen quinnzel, Harley, Harley Quinn, harlyquinn, jason, jason todd, Poem, poet, Poetry, Quinn, robin, todd, write, writer, writing | posted in Dark, Light, Nerdy, Poetry, Uncategorized