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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    when the end is near, what is left? pictures of times you cannot remember, though you try the smell of your mother the feel of her soft legs in the summer the warmth of the sidewalk under your bare feet when the end is near, everything is left....
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Swirling moons tumbling into the deep abyss of darkness. A place where twilight never comes, and sunlight doesnt dare to shine. The ominous sound of nothing, creeping into my ears. So dark, yet bursts of color protrude here and there. The colors of mauve, red and purple, ripping the sky into pei...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Water down the imagination. Kill all of the creation. Broadcast on the radiostation, "Here comes the Corporation Nation!" Strips of red represent the dead, Beaten by the whip until evey tear was shed. Red blood splattered, A people shattered. Brought on by this Corporation Nation. Stripes ...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs

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