This Is Me

I saw him hover then. With cautious footsteps By the stream.           ** I saw him learn With restless heart. To spread his wings, And catch his spark.          ** I saw him flee, Into the sky, I saw him weave And saw him fly.         ** Mother close Under the sun. His body rose And power spun.           ** With wings of grace, He then turned, And pulled me back, Into his world.         ** With seconds still, I saw his eyes, A bird of prey Take to the skies.          ** - Beyond the landscape portrait paint, I see the life  That we create.  - Beyond the charcoal pallet stain, He falters, but begins again.                                                  ...

'She looked then only at perfection sitting before her.                       She listened to his words, and almost believed them.                                   She listened to his heart, and almost felt it...                                          But then she remembered.                                          ...

What Makes Me You. I don't often explain my titles, they are a little mysterious piece of my work that allow the imagination to wonder, but I'll explain this one to you. People question how sometimes I dare to put such words to paper. I dare because I can. Although a lot of controversy may surround the issues I speak of, I may leave them dwindling in the air, allowing you to ask a question - and this is my aim. To leave you asking questions. What makes me you is that I too, am human. I can be a very naive human, and I am the first to admit this, my opinions will not always be correct. My work not always in perfect rhyme or be grammatically accurate, but I do my best. I was recently asked how it feels to place my life on the Internet for the world to see. My answer? It is a cylinder of continuously turning match-boxed woven replica of Hell. I hurt when you criticise me, yet I appreciate it too. My work consists of two different shelves, one fiction. One non-fiction. You wil...