a foolish cure

“Save your own damn self” really, is that cogent or possibly true? Do you see how he, with no motive, murdered not least a few? When we don’t know what is wrong, how can we be sure that saving our “sovereign” self is not simply a foolish cure? “For by grace you have been saved…

it weeps as a child

I see the world cry it weeps as a child for cosmically it is ill and never at rest the wind howls and waters descend they ascend and deploy as tantrums to destroy it knows not what it needs, as a child never does, but groan it will continue until it’s pacified at once. “For…

Latent

Latent my soul exists in wait of sunshine to entice me out of my withered darkness, but the winter still comes, it is yet to arrive, so, despondent I remain, until spring beckons me to resurrect.

Queen BB

This painting was painted using acrylics on canvas. It signifies royalty using gold acrylic paint and the background texture creates an abstract, womb-like baby image. Queen BB is the result.

Black Lips

This is a piece I painted a while back with acrylics on a thin canvas. It is my take on Black Lips by Lora Zombie. 

Brittle Joy

This is a mixed media piece on canvas that actually uses water colors (without water) and acrylics. It creates a brittle effect at points and a more translucent look (especially on the edges).

Leone

These are two mixed media paintings I created using Acrylic paint and oil pastels on canvas. The title of this work is “Leone” which means lion (our daughter’s middle name).  

The Gospel Bleeds Hope

Yet though we kill and are killed, the gospel bleeds hope. it bursts forth in healing in the midst of our violence. The murdered God, killed by you, brings life in death; a paradox of love and despair given to satiate and silence our blood lust.

we murder for joy

Sin’s insanity never ceases to surprise with no motive, we kill we murder for joy how creative humanity is in the destruction of others it is boundless and unending the imagination of the wicked.

the infection, the curse

Unwaveringly consistent each day and night it looms and dooms with sadistic delight The infection, the curse is so stark and malignant it’s chaotic and present no, more, mockingly persistent There’s a desire for clarity for an explanation of motive but the reality is this disease has intricately taken control of Each person; and that’s…

Awake at the worst

I’m very tired (of being sad) the fatigue is unbearable or maybe the energy required is? Exhaustion lulls me to sleep every morning, afternoon, evening, until, midnight arrives and I’m awake in darkness awake tired at the wrong parts of the day awake at the worst.

I hate this day

I hate this day not her, for dying (though, I did at one time) I hate how it came and our lives will never return to how it once was before.