Content on this page requires a newer version of Adobe Flash Player.

Get Adobe Flash player

Back 2 the House

most recently

this is my opportunity to finally say something profound...wait for it....(burp!)

august 11 right now

try putting yourself in my head & see where you end up

s t e a m r o l l e r s   are  g o

Content on this page requires a newer version of Adobe Flash Player.

Get Adobe Flash player

this is a little love poem i wrote in high school for an english project. my teacher loved it & she loved me...well, i ask you...who wouldn't?


this was a good friend of mine in high school. she's been gone a long time but i still think how great it would be had she lived & what her life & her family would be like now...& i get a little heavy hearted. man, i'm getting tired of people dying but we're only getting older so life must ultimately give way to the edict of inevitability.


2000 - an adult tongue twister

Pretty Polly & Peter’s Prickly Predicament
Pretty Polly Pathologically Planted Prickly Potted Pear Plants Parallel
to Peters Primrose Path..Predictably, Peter Pitched a Pious Pee Pee. Pretty
Polly Proceeded to Pelt Peter with Pungent Polypropylene PineCones Phrom the Petrified Phorest.Peter,Pugilistically Punched Pretty Polly,  Prodigiously Planting Pain Plainly on Pretty Polly’s Prettified Puss. Pretty Polly Placated Peter with a Plump Platypus Platter, Procured
Posthumously, Paralyzing Peters Pancreas. Peter, Pancreas Paralyzed with Phear Plum near Passed out Preceding the Predicament, Pleadingly
Pointing to Polaris, the Polestar, in a Pathetic attemPt to be Poignant and not Pissy. Pretty Polly caPitulated, Pointing out the Predication that
Peter Pay Paul a Pretty Penny Por favor. Peter, Peeved, Perpetrated a Phalanx of Pheasants to Preen and Pout for Pretty Polly’s Perverse Pleasure. Pretty Polly not Properly Persuaded by Peter’s Perversion, Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers and Plunged them into Peter’s Pudgy
Pelvis, Placing Peter in Pharmacological Phencyclidine,not like Phenobarbital but not unlike Psychodelic Psylosybin. As a Prank, Peter  Plucked Pretty Polly’s Pinfeathers, Prompting Pretty Polly to Picture Picknicking in a Pastoral Panorama. It was the Pinnacle of Postulation
for the Purposes of Posterior Positioning. Plus, it was Pitiful and Patently Pathetic. Proving Penultimately that Pretty Polly was the Perfect Prostitute, Prodded by her Pie faced Pimp Pedro. Pedro’s Puny Presumption Paled by comparison to Pretty Polly’s Peaches, which Provided a
Plethora of Plankton for the Prancing Prophylactic Priestess Paulina, Preventing Paul Phrom Proving a Point of Parliamentary Procedure and Purchasing Poi phrom the Paw Paw Patch, Propelling them Perilously into the Pit of Perry Mason’s hair Plug Procedure. Practically too Proverbial for  Public Propaganda and Probably too Preposterous for Practicing Protestants. 


Content on this page requires a newer version of Adobe Flash Player.

Get Adobe Flash player

the flowmaster general back to the house


Dance With Life

I had a dream about death.

It was only a dream, thank God.


If death came to me, unexpectedly,

on silent wings of hypocrisy, taunting me;

leaving me aware of my own mortality,


I would not fear it but welcome it,

if it was time.

Death. Is it real? Is it life ending or

a beginning?

A pristine state of stillness-

or is the soul sucked out?

Going where your life has taken it?

Does your soul have a choice?

Does your soul want revenge?


1991 as well

Slab O' Reality

Candle Power.

Breathe Freely.

Man made what? Why?

Stab the Earth? Or caress it...

for what it is worth.

Tell not your children of the good old days

as they run through a concrete field

of an unenviable death.

Thanks to your efforts,

someday, all of this will be theirs.

An artificial legacy is not much to be thankful for.

But they will thank you.

Maybe face to face, perhaps...

through an oxygen mask.

You can't create new life in cementia.

Think about it.


1 9 9 1...yet again

Red 2 Blue 2 Green

Red light, in my eye.

An inimatable crimson sphere.

What does it want?

What is trying to tell me?

What is it trying to tell you?

Why? Why? Why is it in my eye?

Is it the media?

Is it the flashing spectre of war?

Why is it changing color?

It's blue, the color of the sky.

Is it evolving?

It is green, the color of the Earth.

The color of life.

I dreamt of colored lights, in a black world getting blacker.

But capable of changing colors with the assistance

of a collective psyche.

Red to Blue,

an optimistic view.

Blue to Green,

the colors I have seen.

The colors that should've always been.


t o p