Nothing Wrong With Me

Painting and poem by me. 

Touch me. Fight me. Fuck me. 

You wanted to unzip, see the dragon

That hides in the closet, the messy darkness

Where I breath fire in a corner

So not to burn anyone. 

There’s nothing wrong with me

Your skin is too soft for my scales 

So stand back, admire from a distance

Or approach. It’s your call. 

If you light me up, enjoy it, because 

There will undoubtedly be a mess

And everyone knows,

I’m not one to clean. 


2016: Making Room For the New

Goodbye to the purge of 2016. A historic year globally and individually. I would like to thank all of those who peace’d the fuck out, vanished, or tried to subdue me. Without you all I wouldn’t have found your replacements, across the board, the empty spaces you left behind have been filled with gold. Like a Japanese bowl I look better when I’m out back together. I am always whole. 

To the flighty girls, I forgot why I didn’t associate with you anymore. But I remembered quickly. I admit, I got savage, dismantled the social structure of your petty hierarchy. It was fun. I needed the power, I had been lacking for so long. Your constant awe of me, of what I considered mediocrity, was the sign. I don’t believe I’m above anyone, but you’re all below me. If I were to try to lift you up, I’d end up down there with you. Bye!
To the demon, I don’t have to wish anything upon you. Karma will teach you your lessons. As it has been showing me mine. Although you’ll always have a place in the deep dark blackness of my asshole. Bet you thought I was going to say heart, never. You have been banished and I threw out the one you poisoned. This new blossom is stained glass, fragmented in the light of glory. Everything you told me I couldn’t/shouldn’t do is the epitome of my epic and growing mastery. Suck it. 
To my angel, thank you dearly for coming to my rescue with an iced coffee and a joint. You were my saviour and I couldn’t have done it alone. All the fears I had before jumping, were completely soothed the moment I got into the car with you. Your family and your love healed me and it tears me up that you can’t open yourself and allow me to do the same for you. I will have your back indefinitely. Take your time. I’ll repay you, if not in this life, then the next time around. Cross my heart. 
To my sickness, I appreciate the warnings. I heard you, and I’m following through. If I slip up, feel free to nudge me, gently. You know I cherish your adversity; the greatest father, you have been to me. We are on the same team, and with the strength I gain from fighting you- I can do anything!
To blue eyes, your wave wasn’t as high as I thought it would be. No worries, you ride yours and I will conquer mine. Your replacement arrived in less than 24hrs and for that I can never hold a grudge . I would let you go a million times over, again and again, if it meant I would find a new teacher immediately. I blamed you for wasting my time, but I see you were just collecting your things and moving out. Your vacancy was filled, you turned out a light and I found a new dawn. Keep carving yourself and your work. Keep surfing. Opening up is hard, but I don’t regret being authentic with you. I know you think I’m unorthodox and a little too “new agey” but we speak the same language, you just don’t hear yourself. Listen to your heart, don’t be a martyr. Stay high. 

art, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

The Lotus and the Butterfly

The lotus and the butterfly,
Two friends of spirit, and mind. 
Blossoming from the murky depths,
An oasis of peace breaks through
Cloudy waters, visibility means nothing
When roots sink teeth in to stretch,
Up into the glossy light, you open,

To provide structure for the 
Flutter of the equally as colourful,
Bold, and transformative butterfly. 
Unreal beauty curated in the solitary. 
Confined, reflecting what is inside. 
She flies chaotically adhering 
To plans of synchronicity. 
Embraced in the petals of a familiarity, 
Flesh, wing, and leaf- at peace. Unity. 


Reevaluate the Execution

Considering a humble life
Of duty and lust
Of a wonder that pulls

My hair, whispers past my ears. 
Windows can’t be closed,
Forced to embrace the

Brillant scattered light
In a fit of naivety I take 
Leaps across universal

Lines of time and 
I hold my breath
Until I break the surface,

Gasping, I follow the signs.   



How stale,

Life without passion. 

The incarnation

Of the Aquarian soul. 

The mindful genius with an

Empty chest hole. 
Half a dozen years turn to faded

Memories of an ideal

I once held, for you, I let it go. 

My time was wasted,

And a fool of me was made. 
So the next time I go to

San fransisco,

You’ll be the last to know. 
If you care to learn

About my internal model,

I can inform you, it was recalled

Decades ago.