Off The Vine

Wicked cool stuff! 🙂


…you keep yours, and I’ll burn mine.


These words that are spoken in earnest, and devoid of any malice.  I care not for that which came before. I tread ever so lightly into the dawn, eyes open and heavy of heart.

Once broken from the vine, all at once dark and withering. If you fold me, hold me under again.

Fold Me

Prison fights overnight
Leaving you to understand
Traffic lights who is right
Leaving you to understand

And I fly on a wing and a prayer
And I try forget all that is there

Prison fights overnight
Who was right
Leaving you to understand

If you fold me
Hold me under again

Faded roses off the vine
You keep yours and I’ll burn mine
Snapshots yellowed over time
Chill the glass that’s left behind

And I fly on a wing and a prayer
And I try forget all that is there

Faded roses…

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All That Defines Us


…must surely bind us, and usher us with great certainty along our way.


Like cattle I suppose. Led innocently down the path, drift haughtily along the dream, visit among ourselves, make ineffectual plans and stare deftly through the dust covered glass into a future that can never be. It’s almost comical really.

Face to the Wall

A painter, and a poet once sat in a coffee shop and debated the merits of what should be. I imagine the conversation would have been served up better with the topic of what will be, but that’s the price of youth; always more in focus long after the fact.

The falling man hangs in the balance as I lie comfortably in my chair; unable to do more than gaze doggedly in silence. Thoughts that were once held in warmth and comfort are now quickly iced over, and served openly as a motionless horror.

All that you see before you was written long ago. The lava will eventually cool. It will…

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