Venom spitting poet, on paper with ink he sows it spitting, words in sheep like herds, serving aces changing faces. Firing bullets like cannon balls smashing into walls, angry sage of the modern age firing fury onto blank page. Take no prisoners please or offend, word Smith creating fire to send, rewriting lines that twist … Continue reading Venomous Poet
They Just Stare
You sit there upright in your chair and people just stop and stare. They talk to me like your not there as though talking to you they don’t dare. They don’t see the pain in your face they think you should always have good grace. Then there’s the others who want to race even though … Continue reading They Just Stare
Rhythm of the Ink 
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