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Perth., Australia

I’ve always just loved art and my MO, is simply to produce art that I find interesting and that satisfies my own sense of what is...


Life, as Death.

If the past defines my future / I have an argument with destiny. / It has belittled and blighted me / thus far, / where does it lead me the…

Beethovens Heritage.

He tried to cleanse our senses

Of Loves Lost.

My spirit is lost / in their finding lights.

A Forest of Lies.

The planting of a lie is easy

Realities Unseen.

Diminishing returns rule over our decadent / indulgence in self deception.

The Editor of My Soul.

I will not allow the future / to resumate my past.


A rose rises over my grave

My Long Lost Soul.

The reign of my demise / brings with it the thunder / of a future condemned / to futility and loss. / Just as my past was / poured out ove…

We Are the Word.

If God is the great ‘I am,’ / then we are, / the great “we are.” / If everything was created through and for Christ…


I only hope to be able to see,

A Dream Long Forgotten.

a new and tender sprout / of a dream

Miss Begotten Thoughts.

We are life long slaves / to our hearts wants

Twin Sins.

Envy the blind,


time kills, / eternity, / waits, / God, / forgives.

We Judge Ouselves.

We are thus governed by either; / the light of our eyes, / or the light of our souls,

The Truth Beyond.

They rest upon the cushion / of perception,

Lightbulb Momentum.

The failings of our great expectations.

Unloved Light.

The wings of the unlovely / must be divined via / the sight of the mind.

The Wisdom of Flowers.

We do not share their wisdom.

The Memory of Death.

my already forgotten soul.


Our escape from these wall’s, / terrifies us,

The Dust of Dead Dreams.

I am then chained,


For what are we / if we are not prisoners / of time, sentenced to certain death,

The Teacher of Time.

The hands of time / persist in dumb discordance / miming out the minutes / pointing to eternity.

Children of Lost Hope.

An intimate familiarity / with life’s lustful impregnation / of our souls

Seeds of Sadness.

Red wind dances and wind’s / across my deserted heartlands.

The Infliction of the Past.

Inflicted thus by the wounds / of our ancestors,

Without Love.

Who would want to live in this world / without love?

The Forgetfullness of Love.

To learn nothing, / is to need nothing.

The Apple of My Eye.

I see a tree in full blossom now, / full of deathly promises

The House of Dreams.

Black words pollute the whitewashed / wall’s of my housed hopes.

Freedom From War.

As they seek a way out / through the avenues of wisdom, / they find only words and wishes.

The Tailor of Our Genes.

I am forced to wear / the genes of medieval maniacs

The All Seeing Eye.

To blind the eye of the world, / is to be reborn, / in the sight of God.

The Time Alloted. ( The Slave. )

I drill into the darkness / with my twisted words.

Pride and Pragmatism.

Via vision, / we are rendered blind.

The Clown.

a never ending / trial through time.

Born Of Rage.

Cut open your veins / bleed onto the page

Our Glass of Mind.

color without sight, / day’s of endless night.

An Accentuated Beauty.

A Celtic woman with flowing red locks, / digs silently down by her thatched abode, / for a lost hand-me-down.

The Race For Freedom.

Redemption finds us wondering lost, along / the paths of memories of innocence,

Bespoken Words.

It’s breath is mine, / and so I speak into it’s / endless eddies with a question / of why.

The Rebirth of Death.

We are as immutable as / time itself,

The Muse of the Senses.

The hangover, / will be hell.

The Story of Life.

Silence brings us forth / into a summer / of piercing musical / light,

Captive Hopes.

Words form into ropes / tying my hands purpose / to wordless dreams,


Why? / Becomes my inherited / and my betrothed question

The Impotency of Democracy.

Empty slogan ism populates / our actions,

Sirens of the Weave.

I would project audibly, / my spirit, forthwith,

The House Wins.

Life is nothing but a casino / where the dice are loaded


the truth, / which is nothing to him

Killing Time.

Death becomes my long / awaited lover

We Know Not, What We Do.

The ugliness of / those cursed with / the vestige of beauty,

Beyond The Lie Of Life.

a dream of hope / of life, / beyond death.

The Ghosts of Words.

Our voices are theirs, / their desires / we bare.

The Ink Of Time.

beyond the black well / of history.

My Heart Beats Upon My Flesh.

enriching my soiled hopes / for love.

A Winter- Land- escape.

Away from the heat of lies, / there is a land of snow.

Where Do We End?

Where do our muted thoughts travel to?


We are left alone as individuals / fighting for our lives / in the aftermath / of wars, / not our own.


my souls desire / gravitates towards / truth.

The Lost Fight.

The soul beats life / into dead flesh

Life For Lifes Sake.

they learn / of the love / that could have / saved them.

Orphans of the Past.

The black infertility / of death / is painted thus / upon our blind souls

The Corridors of Death.

We want all things / but we would share no thing,

The Truth.

towards a vision / of grace

A Bloody Story.

A singular heart / throbs / with it’s thousand curses

Self Deception.

no fee.

A Way to Fly.

I waken with / a way to fly.

The Dance.

We are dancing with dreams / not our own

Love Unseen.

How wonderful / the eye that is born

Yet Another.

Flesh is all / that is left, / and it falls

Past Life.

A multitude of lost scribes

The Answer To Ourselves.

we are left with a question / of when will it end

The Gravity of Sin.

My veins, wormholes, / timeless pathways

Blind Sighted.

My weaknesses / fall even beyond deaths / strengthening grasps / for my failing sight. / My own faltering demise / I would behold / with a…

Our Hidden Hearts.

Our actions gravitate / towards the world / in which we live.

Your Ego, My Soul.

I will live and die / in your memories of me

Giving Birth.

I see my own mind / in the reflection / of their purpose

Colors Lost.

Only a void / to be filled / with the memory / of colors lost.
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