confessions of the hand


The rhythm that we spin in,
is the time that we live in, 
there is nothing else given,
more is forbidden in humanities new world vision, 
heard of sci-fi?
well what is wifi?
humanity's new life line...?
shown through a tight pipeline...
but only for select times,
where satelittes are stars and our mind is our bars,
trying to save time in our cars, 
that cant make it far enough to mars, 
so don't worry about much,
sit down have some lunch, 
keep it simple what's the rush?
stay for dinner, 
have more bread,
Open your shed,
Let us Browse inside the forehead,
with all of the games we play before bed,
and allow the shadow to spread,
these are games played until death,
give the mind less stress more rest for your best, 
life's the test,
more people grown the more fed,
the more people here the more left, 
we fall without root, 
what must we pursue?...
keep searching for the truth!
what else can we do?
I know we'll pull through...
our division is true,
but my position is proof, 
that our limit is no roof, 
nor sky, 
dont ask why,
its just their lies,
The truths....inside.

Below is a peek at the painting I did to bring this poem to life. 

​​In My Heart

If you have any comments or questions I would love to hear. Please fill out the form below. 

​Poetry/spoken word is a true passion of mine. I Hope you enjoy. Please let me know what you think. I will add a form below if you would like to leave me a comment. Thank you . 


I wrote this poem for a very amazing and influential                 woman in my life, my Aunt.