Let me tell you about James... About 30 years ago we used to chill in a run-down apartment complex in Northern Virginia. It was the type of place where black and white weren't the only colors, and Route 1 ran through the center of town, like lines drawn on a school playground- daring, taunting the... Continue Reading →
There are tales of men in constant flux and wanting, unsettled thoughts in assassin's eyes, deluged by faces and time, who try to sing songs from their prisons. Their bodies are cages, taut and binding the pacing tiger souls inside. Death house dreaming, inconsiderate of their fictions. Freedom to kill and take but the pacing... Continue Reading →
This was our biggest show, opening for Murphy's Law. The crowd was moving to our music, and I was getting into the energy, stomping my foot with the sprained ankle, in defiance to the pain, enjoying watching the dancers crash into each other from the stage. We went into a song called Skull Smash,... Continue Reading →
This song was heard when no one was listening, spoken by solitude across the desert sands. This is the dance... Can you hear the rhythmic pounding of the idle mind? Can you hear the rhythmic pounding for the idol's mind? Pulse of the heartbeat in the temple, in the stars, in pupils reacting to light?... Continue Reading →
Savage bearing, resting against the base of a giant tree, contemplating the hunt and the taste of passion, as her naked shoulders turn her shaggy head, flaxen hair tousled and moved by wanting, while her sister, dark and silent listens to the air, and stares from black, predatory orbs toward the sounds and scents.
The night breathes strange, excited air, cool to the touch. All things surround and hold us in place- The earth, the air, the sky, the ages before and those to come, hold me in this moment of Eternity with comfortable arms, divine wings. The roses are singing to my sister. She is in ecstasy on... Continue Reading →
The first time I went into the bathroom, there was blood on the walls of the last stall, splattered like paint thrown excitedly on a canvas, by some soul exploding its essence outward, through the finite matter of its shell- Death painting white bricks. Still life. True high art to draw the senses upward in... Continue Reading →
Night-time blanket shield me, the Shadow Walker, from shady dreams and nightmare vision. Thunder in the earth, this ghetto is shaking, the sound inspiring wild dances. Milk-White and loathed, the Pale Ghost moving quickly through alleys, and thoroughfares teeming with ant-like lines gathering what they find, and corner-boy-soldiers, front stoop eyes, night and day the... Continue Reading →