Log 27:76

Dear RoseMarie,
You’ve never seen anything like this. We’ve traveled further than ever expected possible and seen more stars in one gaze of an eye than most people have ever seen in a lifetime. I wish there was some way for you to see any one thing from this travel. But we both know there is no chance of that.
Whereas once we could barely believe the fortuitousness to which we dwelled in the warm rays of the sun, the coordinates have changed and now it appears we’ve become destined for night. I think of your mother often and with no way to measure the time that has passed I stand at increasing risk of never seeing her. With the increasing pressure it has become necessary that the rest of the group here has been required to keep to their quarters as I have to mine. Our release is not of our own control though I am aware of alternatives should the situation become so dire. We have challenged the very limits of the horizon to find it’s end in hopes to benefit countless others from our discoveries.
RoseMarie I think of you my dear every day and there’s nothing more powerful that strikes my heart than to know you are not here. Initially this journey was for you but now I know that fate will not benefit that purpose to which it was incepted.
You will never know the cost to which I have fiendishly chosen this journey nor what has been lost day by day since its departure. Every year provides more hardships than the one prior but still we press on.
I’ve seen matters unimagined by any human before, most shocking to the eye or inconceivable to the mind. People have nearly been driven mad by the quietude but seem to have found friendship in one another. I believe we may have even obtained additional help over the years as there are newer voices to people to whom I have never been introduced. The vessel is one so large that I had barely traversed its girth even before our previous orders of quarantine. I don’t know when we may all be able to stand before one another but I would love to hear the stories of their own travels so as to one day share them with you.
I miss you my dear.
I’m sorry you were never able to be born as I was never able to find your mother. These burdens lie on me, your father and no one else will suffer the pains as much as I. This path has been laid and as we all knew when we were first shown the destination there is no turning back once the course has been set. In my mind I’ve laid a thousand roses on your grave for never giving you the chance to come and change the world for the better as I am assured was to be your destiny. With each silent hour my only consolation available is to continue this journal that you will never hold. I will see this through to my last day and arrive at the irony an endless number of times that this effort was originally for you. So that you could be the best possible person and have whatever you might need. I’m sorry I have failed you so terribly my dear but rest assured my love for you will always be unyielding and ever-present. Should we ever be turned to wreckage with nothing but my documentation as a record of this journey, it will be apparent how much I loved you as much it is how futile it would be to try to track you down to deliver this series that might be mistaken as your entitlement.
To my beloved. Though your heart could never beat it assuredly had enough love to heal the world.
-data encrypted-
-log off-




I feel like I’m walking a misty stair 

twisted, under cared 

despair, in disrepair 

a grim laire, with tread bare, 

with bread scarce, and legs wear 

dread pressed in thin air 

the dead dressed in threads bare 

with slim face, a dim stare 

the lungs gone, they aren’t there 

the cheeks long, the flesh tears 

the breath old, the blood cold 

the sweat molds to wept soul 

 the ghosts hold a long pose 

Who goes there, Were you told 

I know nothing, have no hold 

the stair winds, but who goes 

the dust rail, a rust bold 

a trust sold, a hand fold 

I march on, but don’t gain 

I climb high, but stay same 

I hear voice, but no name 

they speak words, without say’n 

They reach in, but don’t claim 

They look close, and don’t blame 

 I lose stride, but still rise 

they grab arms, they bring sighs 

we all march in grey strides 

my sight greys to their eyes 

 the bright days, for their lives




The fabled city of Deffenborg prospers. Their citizens strong. The literature of the Deff has in this future come to rival the venerable contributors from any previous continent or millennia. No cuisine has laid such a foothold into the recipes of ages nor landed so nobly onto the palettes of refined tongues near and abroad. Though these legendary establishments were bred from the once utter demise of the very same book of senses. A phoenix born of the most barren heap of cinder and smoldering ash.
In preservation lies the passion in which the world’s astonishments are lain on paper. Tales of victory and woe, poetry that enlivens the greatest chambers of the heart and beads perspiration upon the brow. Histories documenting and spinning the yarns of a thousand wooly figures that once graced this magnificent country. In experimentation lies the very soul that has heightened the cooks, bakers and chefs of this people. Use of oils and herbs and spices prepared without conformity that invade and enliven the most entranced regions of the cerebral cortex. A chest of treasure bred of tastants and odorants instead of silver and gold is the inheritance of the youth in Deffenborg.
A civilization iconic in ways only known to the ancient Egyptians, Romans and Cypriots though true, these people have endured more than they have thrived. Out of necessity has the kindling of deprivation been stoked to flame from its glowing embers. This is a people who do not speak to another another. A people who must ensnare their remaining senses or else become unfit and useless in their basic survival as a species. Over time the Deff grew to become nearly mute in ability due to weakness in their most flaccid sense of all. The Deff deprived themselves, voluntarily I might add, of their tendency to listen until they starved the neurologic synapses into acute hibernation. As this void pandemically grew the oratory skills soon became the secondary victim of their ways. The tendency to not listen became the inability to hear. Without the purpose of language grew the vacancy of voice. The Deff nowadays stand our planetary leaders in stocking the culinary and literary canon, but devoid of lingual and auditory skills they have lay famine to their culture in music and oration. Their longstanding survival may very well lie once again with their ability to develop a seed from draught, and in doing so save an impoverished element of human survival from perish.

2015-01-11 22.27.31-2

times and tides

As sand crumbles through my fingers changes circle me and swallow

documented, noted, set afloat in drifting bottles

I throttle ocean currents permanently on the tides

and watch the continental drift amidst the oceanic rise

I wander silent tides into a worn appreciation

til the dunes erode to sediments the hour glass has taken

Sun forsaken, salted, dried and time decayed from tumbled waves,
the water wades upon me talking humbly to my presence

My Caribbean soul engulfs a mortal body’s essence

We spread horizon wide and rest appreciative in bed

for anytime our spirits drift with more ascension than they ebb

The fate of anchors weigh on me though weight is just illusion

chained to frames of endless name compressing what was buoyant

Changes make the music, grooves between the moving currents

sings the smoothest words of praise forever raising my assurance

When the bottles drift for centuries they bring with them commitment

understanding that the contents can’t combine with outer liquid

for salinity’s obtrusion can degrade the basic truths when

the ancient honored movements touches aqueous solution

I’ve hurricanes and tidal waves to crush the dreams of many

Pulling weight from out the heavens to assault the bodies living

Where our sediments can mix returning soul to soil and sand

springs a reef beneath the surface catching remnants in its hand

When you break the lies of gravity we sink beyond the skies

Hence the reason why we leave our breath beyond the times and tides


My Sorrow, My Sparrow

It makes perch upon my shoulder and digs its needles through my skin.

Sinks beneath my being silently to let it in.

Beacons to the shadows growing strong from frailty of light.

Scarcity of nutrient, cloaking darkness over sight.

Its gaze can see in front of me, its eyes aside my own.

It knows the past behind us. Hollow as its bones.

It walks along my stanzas unknown to ever rest.

It plays me like an instrument with reeds that know me best.

It’s silent on my arm except when pecking at my soul.

Its claws are born to ridicule and turn a body cold.

My sparrow soars through wind and flesh and digs between the seems.

It lays its eggs at night to haunt tomorrow from my dreams.

It’s light as half a drop of rain but perches like a rock.

Its pupils soak in glory stole from time, it bleeds my clock.

It holds the present captive weighed in stone and built from ice

And stands upon my body never interested in flight.

My sparrow’s healthy as a sunrise with its warmth to glow and spread

But it’s dark as night in color wound eternal is its thread.

It feeds and breathes and grows its grip and sinks its toes persistent

It leads from its tumultuous heart unknown to be repentant.

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Memory In The Distance

i see a memory in the distance… what is it

what assistance can I give it to allow this clouded recollection to step into the clearing

it’s nearing the loch.

oh don’t let it get lost as it walks to that lazy grayish haze

and fades into my mental centuries of days passed.

the contemplation that’s both simple and whimsical is instrumental

in the combination that’s both mental and physical

which gives amazement to this pencil that wrote mystical guidelines

as I find my deranged abstract companion has changed paths.

it shoots its gaze back after it shoots its crazed laughs and chatter

as it pulls me through shoots and ladders as characters and slides are characterized

by the eyes shining through its translucence that proves it’s a figure of familiarity.

i feel it radiate friendship as it stands to stare at me

it steps as if stalking me and walks so awkwardly

flaunting itself as a hidden remembrance that still imprints with nameless existence

it’s with this ghostly tool that it captivates my attention and sends my mind tremblin to the bottom of my stomach

i feel faint but come from it just in time to rub my eyes like I was hypnotized

and find myself forgetting again.


i see a memory in the distance and can’t resist its presence

i can tell it’s frustrated for some reason only by the distorted aura circling around its area

i can’t hear the words it’s mouthing but the wind seems arousing

and reaching to carry a team of out-stretched spectral fingers that fly in the dim light

and riding the wind right into my beating chest presses hard launching an assaulting barrage charging my cerebrum as I feel ‘em massage deep into my psyche.

it’s frightening and unlikely but what was one lost now strikes me

as a fallen ghost and I can almost remember from the second it touched me from afar

illuminating my awakening consciousness that I thought had just come from a star

and I fall back as I step away and clench persistent wrists that grip me from the inside

and rip ignorance from its inner shell.

it’s looming fingertips creeping deep into where my most concealed memories dwell

while sweating I swell as my forethought is brought from heaven through hell

into a place it can almost recognize.

from afar i feel the pain of its cold eyes as these strange hands glide to reclaim old ties

i wrench against the thoughts that these nails pull

i can’t let it set into me – it’s just too painful

i’m feeling my brain pull back into my happy little life

bringing an end to its images of figment appendages as it enters the light

it goes on with its photonic bombardment seemingly releasing its target completely.


i see a memory in the distance.

i know nothing of its existence and cannot seem to bring it close enough to know its touch

and remember its tender moments we probably once shared

it must be scared to be given attention

or too startled to claim whatever part of my brain it fits in.

it makes its decision and sits in the breeze.

its form flying free and earthless

it soars in a world of stories and past dreams i can’t bring to the surface

EDDIE Barringer’s Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

Some of us may be familiar with EDDIE Barringer’s history having co-produced Thievery Corporation’s song Stargazer in 2011 and Sleepy Wonder’s album Injustice in 2010 but until now we didn’t know what a personal effort from the artist might sound like. Having now heard this album it’s with a sense of urgency that I share a brief synopsis.


Eddie Barringer Self Fulfilling Prophecy Cover Art

due out December 9, 2014

Preorder on iTunes and Amazon MP3


BFly is the first track on this album and I feel it was a mental exercise as much as a song. We begin with what sounds like an old low-fi recording of a jam session and then launch into an audible galaxy of rich production and a slow rhythm and blues style dub beat. It feels like you just sat down and blasted out of Space Mountain

The experience lies in catching onto this rich contrast and having the vocals, rich but smooth, come in soon after giving you one of those “stop in your tracks and listen” moments. In the split second it’s taken you to get attune to the lyrics the entire landscape has already been smoothed over and the song is now defined. EDDIE’s driving this thing. I’ll linger on this song a little more because it is immediately an interesting tune. The organ and the chorus are intoxicating.


Having set a huge bar just now we move onto Til Dawn, where intelligently we deconstruct into a slightly slower but harder beat, a little electronics and reverb – and again EDDIE. Listen closely as we go from a kick-beat into a reggae style and then back to the opening sound again. The lyrics are uplifting. I’ll refrain from quoting a line because anyone who is going to purchase this (Dec 9) owes it to themselves to give it a proper listen.


In Color is a stronger sound. EDDIE’s “don’t judge me lyrics” build on the positive, conscious writings he created for this album. The I dream in color harmony is the part that will be stuck in your head one day – happily so. The song’s good and reminds me of a little of something from the 90’s I’ve long forgotten about – and ingeniously placed is a sharp sample to let you know you’re on the right path.


We stay on a good tip with Positive Place. We’re ride on a simpler beat because every word here is a powerful and preachable statement that should be heard. I’m feeling the glitchy samples styled into this track, keeping the message from becoming too heavy and adding a bit of fun to what’s going on here.


Flowers is a good, good vibe. Soul pours overtop these bars. EDDIE’s delivers something more classic than modern and the beat swings more than kicks. This one you’ll find yourself playing for somebody.


We reach the title track with Self-Fulfilling Prophecy. From the get-go you have a feeling EDDIE’s going to deliver on this song. You can make it happen carries you through the transitions between the verses and breaks. The production soars on this song. Well done.


The guitar riff and stop-go type drummer is what I like about Action. The lyrics bring us to a place where the problems of the world are demanding that something be done. It all melts together into a beautiful piece of art. “Don’t just say care – care is an action. “ I like that.


B4ilay as a reflective, slow song is a memorable moment in the overall album. It is so lulling, so nice, so relaxing that you realize just how mentally active the first half has been.


“Don’t love me to death, love me to life.” I like it already.

Next is KTWK, which stands for Kill Them With Kindness and is a cool choice to follow the previous track. It picks up the pace a bit but then also develops into a bright, melodious tune. At this point you’re realizing EDDIE can do no wrong.


I Got Music (on my mind) is next. Vocally we’re taken somewhere new with EDDIE winding through a faster cadence and revisiting holding certain tones longer – a noticeable and skillful change in the delivery. Contrast that with a chanting chorus and you really have something cool to listen to.


Perfect is a slow build. A lost & found series of drum hits and a dribble of a bass line that soon come to cohesion and turn into a steady rhythm. I believe this is the slowest track on the album but in no way does it bring you down. As EDDIE daydreams to the listener, painting an image over thoughts of what perfection looks like, you’re once again fully engaged in what’s coming from your speakers. Another favorite of the album.


I See Dem Watching comes stomping in. Sleepy Wonder drives into your chest with his known style of reggae. It’s slow, it’s fast. You want to listen, you want to dance. You’re taken back to how the album opened by how much your attention is picked up and carried all over the place again. Each sound, each rhythm, each voice – damn – what a way to finish.



* * * * *



The talent hidden in EDDIE EDDIE Barringer is one due for the world to see.

There is not another album just like this. The vocals, even when soft, are strong. They fit themselves to audible backdrops of all different styles and tempos not normally matched with such conscious lyrics. Musically there is a lot of invention going on from start to finish as well. The listener’s focus gets caught between kicking drums, a dub line, and an R&B chorus that stay perfectly held together. It’s genius in concept and executed perfectly. Instead of fusing into a marginalized sound, the influences and elements of each track stay separate. They coexist instead of meld. The result is a painting of musical diversity, something truly new and different for each song.


The writing is consistent. Bold but easy. Powerful but pleasant. Pulled from a well of positivity running deep within the artist. You can tell the singer feels every part of his message. The voice behind the pen is introspective, insightful and interesting. None of the songs here take effort but instead pass through your speaker easy and all with a message of “negativity won’t ever win” and “music is my freedom”.


These are the ones we need to be writing our hits and radio singles.


EDDIE BARRINGER set out do something different with this album and was incredibly successful. Share this with your friends and coworkers because a follow-up to this album will be desperately needed.





due out December 9th worldwide 

Preorder on iTunes and Amazon MP3












Review: Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

No Choice Music Group ASCAP BMG Chrysalis US

Sleepy Wonder featured on track #12 I See Dem Watching.







Will Hockaday


Now that I’ve effectively doused the heat pouring from my house stereo speakers I think I can actually digest SLEEPY WONDER’S upcoming release

Corporate Greed

FinalCD cover2LR 

due out November 11, 2014.

Jumping head-first into this latest gem:

Sleepy rolls over the earliest track Another Gear showing us his natural ability to take the tightest lines and flow them loosely. From the jump you see a gifted artist giving us what he knows best and why this Independent King has ‘been here for years’. This first track is in place to let you know he’s got your attention and you better hold on.

Ghetto Blues is well placed as the second entry in the track listing. Building from the genius of Portishead’s Glory Box, Sleepy cooks up an atmosphere, lulling us into a moving blue beat that gives the artist a chance to share some of the deeper tones that ring through a person’s soul. Definitely one of the tightest on the album.

Now we move on to an immediate attention-getter. Facing My Challenges makes you wish you were at 9:30 in DC on a Friday night, slowly bumping out your stresses. This one goes out ‘to the whole wide world with an ear’.

There’s something instantaneously nostalgic about the title track Corporate Greed. As the bass line plucks over its smoothly-staccato melody our artist reaches in, separates our minds from our bodies and takes us somewhere else for the next several minutes. Pouring over the subdued angst concerning government greed and ‘the man who fights against the strugglers’ we find no lack of heart in what Sleepy gives us on this song.

You’re going to have to find your way to a dance floor and grab the closest princess before moving onto Why Did You Leave Me To Cry. Heartfelt and beautiful, we get a track that you would rather celebrate the joy of a past love than sulk in the memories.

The Time Has Come is a straight-up call to attention. Citing should-have-been learned lessons from the past, Sleepy sows through this lulling beat with some knowledge for us all. I love here how he’s putting assertively potent lyrics to an utterly soothing beat just to show us all that revolution is indeed a beautiful thing.

Letter To The Media infuses a progressive upbeat rhythm to our journey and gives us yet another fine Sleepy Wonder style moment. I hope to see this track appear on a slew of mixes in the latter part of 2014. In case you didn’t know, Sleepy ‘did it BEFORE and… will SURELY do it again’.

Perfectly set towards the rear of the album is the inspirational Lift Your Heads to the Sky featuring the vocals of Samara Morris. Giving you that 5:00 Vibe here Sleepy has you raising your hands and feeling the world’s eternal fluid feed though your spirit. Once again the track is so wholehearted it’s as if a spark appears in his mind and is immediately coming through your speakers.

Why They Hatin Me Foe introduces the first and only real hiphop influence into the set. We have a funkier drummer and only compared to the smoothness of the previous tracks do you sense a bit of good ol’ grittiness threading its way through the system. Gichi Dame pours an airtight hook in between Sleep’s verse, also tying his guest artists back into the fabric of this banging track. With Marlee Jaye, Miami, Smokin Dro Frazier and Peso Dollar pressing lyrics into the beat you’ll love how this track stays danceable. I love the short-winded verses here because they don’t pull you away from the fragrance of the well-laced chorus or move attention too far away from the beat and its good vibe. Excellent song to end on…

Did I say end on? Actually, remember that beautiful downtempo joint Sleepy gave us after the opening track? Well he sends us out with a much-appreciated instrumental from 5-minutes in just so we feel and remember the full body & soul experience that is listening to this album.

* * * * *

I love that nothing on this album gives us any reminder of what we’ve seen Sleepy do before.  Whether it slows you down or picks you up, you won’t hear anything but sparkling new inspiration from this talented musician and inventor.

Corporate Greed shows us a display of the talented SLEEPY WONDER concealing the more “in your face” styles as seen previously on tracks like Much Harder Than Ever, the drum & bass mix of Big Inna Body, or the heavy metal rock mix of My Vibes (all available on 2013’s Geometric Echoes). We miss the radio-ready Ass On Her, the synths and the R&B fragrance of Time Is Running Out (both from 2010’s Injustice).

In light of which I’ll say that for a performer known for his live energy, I’m wondering how Sleepy will interpret these new tracks into his upcoming, sure to be electric, performances.

With this album Sleepy takes a hold and sends you through the experience of this top-quality foray of wits and makes another strong addition to the Reggae musical canon.

Even if your thinking this kind of record isn’t typically your strength, I implore you to let The General SLEEPY WONDER take you to a place of world citizenship. You won’t be disappointed in the trip.

You can only help but wonder what this truly gifted writer, recorder, producer, and label exec will give us next time.

For as he has told us before, ‘you can never put me down, never get me down’.

If you’re inept to Sleepy Wonder’s music check my personal favorite:

Can’t Do Mi Nothing from 2010’s Injustice or experience the lyrics prowess of State Of the Union Address from Thievery Corporation’s Richest Man In Babylon.





Check out Sleepy Wonder on tour this Fall :

  • 28.2014 – Santa Barbara Bowl, Santa Barbara, CA
  • 29.2014 – Belly Up, Solana Beach, CA
  • 01.2014 – City National Civic, San Jose, CA
  • 02.2014 – Mezzanine, San Francisco, CA

11.01.2014 – Hulaween Music Festival – Spirit of Suwannee Music Park, Live Oak, FL

Review: Corporate Greed

Prod. Sleepy Wonder

Exec. Prod. Sleepy Wonder and Trevor Archer

No Choice Music Group ASCAP BMG Chrysalis US

Guest artists include Vincent Biggs James, Frank Orall, Dave Finnell, Samara Morris, Marlee Jaye, Miami, Smokin Dro Frazier & Gichi Dame.

I don’t want the people responsible to pay.

I don’t want them incarcerated or tortured so the rest of the world can see how we deal with our enemies.

I don’t want to see them strung across tabloids or headlines giving more ignition to those who subscribe to their cause.

I don’t want their example to be carelessly used to turn the minds of so many Americans into beacons of hatred themselves.

I don’t want them to die a painful death.

I want them to see it is easy to destroy but takes a lot work to build anything of value.

I want them to understand that in destruction you create nothing.

I want them to see that changing minds and then hearts towards positivity is the only way to have a world better tomorrow than what we have today.

I want them to take their newfound wisdom and return to their friends and share this better strategy to more effectively implement their desires.

I want them to understand that death meets us all and the damage they have done rushing innocent people to theirs does nothing for their cause.

I want them to feel remorse not only for the lives that we were lost that day but also for the countless loss of men, women and children who over 13 years have been made to pay for their thoughtlessness.

I want them to be outspoken about peace and forge alliances built on people’s ability to build bridges and find common ground with any other person no matter their differences.

I want them to spread harmony in reconciliation for their mistakes and help religious fundamentalists of all faiths calm their angst and sense of urgency and show them how to transform it into patience and acceptance so that we can move into an era where incredible fears are no longer a vehicle used to control our opinions and perceptions.

I want them to show others how to recognize the hatred in their hearts and turn them away from the communicable properties of ignorance and the self-serving fate of revenge.

I want them to show people that we can be better than what we have been.

I don’t want to see more sects of religions turned so filthy.

I don’t want to see more people killed in the name of peace.

I don’t want to see innocent people scared of other innocent people just like them.

I don’t want to see the viral effects of hate carry us to such an ugly world.

I want the world to remember that even those with the darkest moments in their souls are still not beyond repair.

I’d rather be the most unpopular seed planter in my community than the most recognizable bandwagon rider on this myopic knee-jerk reactionary downward spiral of weeds that has infected an otherwise well-meaning and healthy landscape.

Angel Wings

I slide a pen against the pages ‘til abilities are honed

beyond the blades of razors paper cuts can touch the bone

angel dust is never shown because of heaven’s housekeeping

so I don’t know what they’re smoking since the name is misleading but

whatever imaginary hand touches creativity

I’m thankful for the fingerprints that land in my vicinity

I do know for a fact that the bats in the belfries

are thankful every time I go to write because it helps me

come to healthy inspiration, looking out the window

with the hazel-painted glass stained the day they built this temple

if the pencil tips beyond an angle parallel to therapy the scribbling breaks the glass and grains are cast upon the balcony

when angels pass in front of me the shutter speed changes the double takes are just a way to conversate amazement

if I could make this poetry as beautiful as some of you, I’d write until the world is beyond a paper shortage

tips would be eroded to needlepoint precision givin’ blackened gel injections of WallyJac’s enjoyment

I’d hang my inspiration over the door so if you enter let my soul embrace you focus let the present moment kiss you

your interest is formally more than a reward for me wipe your reservations on the welcome mat of dormancy

as far as I’m concerned the spoken work is (border) sorcery a forum where the gods are born performing art accordingly

casting spells making sure the letters are in order WallyJac the foreign soldier, thermos full of orange soda

bonded to the homestead, anomaly to family, finding liberation in the sock the master handed me

time’s the imitation witness ordering the images vacantly expressing limitations with our ignorance

& when it gets late I lay some life into the mirror

a time-stamped capsule of any given second

any pen that hits the record reflects a moment that had molded me

the past becomes nearer, paragraphs grow in potency

pieces of me live in every word ever written

color pours immortal over tapestries of language

the captioning is ageless,

evading timetables


as the fantasies fighting for control of me

the pen eventually runs dry with fluid ounces absent the cursive bends have ended when the riverbed’s a casket

bask in life’s potential energy, mobilized by purpose expression is the universal method to convert it

I’m a power surge that’s evidence of human supernovas, blood flowin through my veins at the speed of light I’m radiant

The mind remains so advanced it’s a waste of time explaining it

My thoughts are food to higher gods, breath is what they pay me with

Angels sit and dangle fishing lines of inspiration

Briared vines of mind invasion move adjacent to the stream of conscious waters flowing gracious on accomplished author’s brains &

all this plays a role in what I’m writing on the pages

The strokes will never soften though I’m out of space for writing

I’ve siphoned each remaining piece of creative speech for rhyming

Sliding pens against the pages northeast to southwest without questioning how many sheets are left to spread a melody

the last page is one thing but writer’s block would be the death of me

my destiny is painted pixilated over angel wings so when they fly together you can see where life is taking me

I’m thankful for the vacancies that challenge my expansion

The gaps within my spirit that illuminate reflection

The passion keeps me documenting any living instant

I draft a paragraph connecting pleasure with commitment

potent to the bone yet poetic to the fiber I’m a writer for the point of never losing what has made me

embracing what defines me ever-changing understanding captivated daily