we’re all a little broken here

not sure where this one manifested from, though I wanted to end this one on a positive note-we do need hope
the gal in the background is a sculpture I made in eleventh grade-I stubbornly didn’t listen to my art teacher and this lady fell apart-too bad

lovers and deaf dogs

excerpt and art from, love of the monster, eBook coming soon
I’ve been swapping some drawings in print version with paintings for eBook-
because glorious color costs the same as black and white in computer landūüėė

this holiday let monsters be of fantasy only

crouching behind windshields
squatting behind screens
societal svengalis lurk
unruly wild things pacing clear enclosures
bitter birds choosing not to fly
limitations evaporate
when powered on by false gods
emotional anchors become
looming weights of entitlement
hands grip wheels
steering by fabricated courage

verbal appetites satiated by barbs
served beneath craving fingertips

manipulation expands
cracked sea sponge tossed into a violent whirlpool
bytes of malice more sour than sun-baked wine
flow over rims of digital goblets
what happens to some
what happens to us

communicating without the skin of our souls
the flesh of our humility
the forbearance of our hearts
what will become of us
when traveling forward
the divinity of pure movement
and humble earth beneath our feet

as this holiday season fast approaches
may we remember
humanity dwells inside
each and every one of us
let monsters be made of fantasy only



inspired this weekend while returning my daughter to college-many crazed people driving the highways-
many crazed drivers on cell phones rushing to cybershop

it’s different today

alone with people 
lonely inside himself
like her
it’s different today

there are those who are complete
with Barbie accessories
used to be days-of-the-week underwear
she’s dating herself
how fun it was back then to misplace Friday
nothing humorous about G-strings
unless you count the wedge itch
you can’t scratch in public
that’s the problem with this new crop of lovers
no sense of humor
‘cleverness’ is their wheelhouse

those pouting cell phone faces
hair calculatingly tousled
upper and lower bulges endlessly optimized
in faux snake scale

elegant mystery lost on past illusions
the past

he covets one
a sense of humor
present when
he’s not trying to be so hard
with thoughts
or backstories
like her
prancing around boldness
except on the dance floor
’80’s disco gloriously simplistic

they are alike
they are alone
in a world beset by shiny upstarts
bedazzled with
Barbie accessories
they summon old-school dreams
and pray these fading thoughts will keep them company
when they are alone
slithered out of my head last night-thank you

gently now

humble citizens eternally petrified 
warm mammoths ice entombed
broken vessels anchored deep
hard lessons in dying
peaceful silence

go gently now

stallion skeleton

the old pyramid trick…inverted word triangle pointing to nowhere, or is it nowhere?
my, my, my crazy WP day with media snafus, love technology when it works:) though I must say the WP gremlins were fabulously helpful

sippin’ shit from the satellite saucer

dude won
sippin’ shit from the satellite saucer
that’s brain milk in there
did you know?
swallow hard and wait for the
Mensa explosion
a thousand stations
to blow your mind out your ears
snort reality
heady up
here comes the gong show
whoa, get your damn greasy stumps off my pristine screen

dude too
looks soreal

dude won
that’s surreal, jack
hey, step back from the ultra hd
and hands off her ass
you’re crapping up my visual

dude too
freakin’ sharp ass glass
realist trip I ever fell over
‘n I slept in a needle
space powder in my orfeces
oh wait, shit
orifecal holes
man, her ass is sublimb-ded

dude won
you’re pot ROASTED, jack
SUBLIME ass and yes, it is
now repeat after me, “ORIFICE”
hey, get your damn hands
off my ultra hd
I already wiped your last scum off there

dude too
shit man
yer satellite saucer
runnin’ outta menses milk
you got one of them cage-free cows
back there in the yard
maybe hangin’ out in them cannibal plants

dude won
you must be allergic to dairy, jack
that’s cannabis
you fuckin’ idiot!
cow pasture with bullcows brought to graze in 2008, find the little green bull…
Experimentally expressing ūüėČ

fake smells

behind studio walls
tech lights flicker
trapped little flames attempt escape
desk ticks
white noise suffocates
beneath night’s cape
foxes hunt
coyotes beckon
stars breathe
should go out and play
with the ‘rousing moonlight
and the wild dogs
who don’t give a crap
about silly jar candles
with fake smells

foxFox in Prisma done 2008

Screen Skulking, Incognito II

I’m out here
staring at a
faceless surface
eyes in plain view
while you skulk
behind meanings

and saucy prose
diluting trust
by initiating

we all enter this place
flesh parallel to screen
after our fingers alight
you disconnect

it is difficult
fully appreciate
your faceless ingenuity

illumination is enlightenment
darkness often deceitful

liquid crystal display
is easy
too easy

for you to lurk
these days…
alien eyesAlien Eyes rendered a few weeks ago

Note: I can certainly appreciate the desire for anonymity, unfortunately there are those who take unkind advantage. Thank you.

binary affairs

we bathe in their glow
let their little emojis kiss us
allow acronyms to replace endearments
they tell us where to go
and we never question
round zeros, stiff ones (‘binarily’ speaking)
fit discreetly into our pockets
where the vibrations excite us
we weep if we lose them
panic when we leave them
turn ons
turn offs
so attentive to their every whim
our new lovers
oh, how we obsess

if “they” don’t sleep with us
maybe we still have a chance
of reclaiming our ‘humaness’ ūüėČ



Galeen girl created a few months ago when I was less feisty ūüėČ
And I am as guilty as the next – my cell phone will be in my pocket today ūüôā

Slowing the Speed Dial

Your name remains
though you have gone
The number reaches
but not your arm

ear to resin.

I hear your voice
I see your face
Clutch the receiver
connecting to

ethereal digits.

Scroll the list
You are there
remaining present
memory stored

calculated bytes.

I puncture delete
claiming the erasure
Pressing onward
a dark mute note

accepted hollow.

Sunset next
I call your name
I hear your voice
I see your face

tears expunged.

Spaces open
the sunrise here
a valiant burst
of cleansing warmth


Robin's Eyes/Prisma

Robin’s Eyes/Prisma

May you dream from a place of warm memory…

Incomplete sketch published on previous post, fitting for this one.