God Loves Killers

Samson was a Killer

David was a Killer

Paul was a Killer

Job was not a killer

Jesus was not a Killer

Jesus was not a Killer

Follow Jesus

luke 12:12

For the Holy Spirit will teach you in that very hour what you ought to say.”


Prayer and trofranil

The third eye was opened

God closed it back

Slippery is that slope

No coming back

Read Psalms 35

What’s your name


Chaos governs

Shape shifting heads

Familiar voices

Bolder and louder

Uttering colder

Fear is winning

My test this

Alone in ominous seas .

“Demons after you” The strong man said

Bind it on earth

Trek through deserts

So-realness in reality

Tribute to Bob Price – A poem

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Someone found the fountain of youth

And no one knew

What did they do ?

They defied nature

And put on a caper

To never stop try

Became one with danger


Close calls

Made you greater

A kid to the end

Mountain among men

You choose the time

When we pick up pen

and write

Someone found the fountain of youth

And no one knew

Bob Price who was killed while taking part in the Isle of Man TT

Bob Price, 65, from Stroud, Gloucestershire, died in a crash at Ballaugh on the third lap of the 37.5 mile (60 km) Mountain course on 2 June.

The car repair shop owner first competed at the TT in 1992.



It burns my nose 



I’m running now

Seeking satiation 

Your path makes you happy 

Marriage and Alsatians

I Prefer Cessna’s and Meditation

So close but still some canyons


Hold on

Extend hands

Take the dive 

That’s where I’m strong



When I had Perfect Eyes

Rays of the morning sun squeeze through

Little dancing floating wiggle worms play

Jumping in and out of the spotlight

Moving to the beat of the air

Later they settle into the final resting place

All were alive in the morning rays


What a place

Some sniff away 

Beer and wine comfort others

Twenty Packs never far 

Chasing memories 

Running from tragedies 

Just bored 

Sagging Pants is gangster 

Some imagine hidden Cameras 

In a place where things are plenty 

They are so empty 



5.00 am

I remember when they would say i was pretty 

All the girls want to meet me 

I would ignore her like 

A Killer in Curfew 

She was not 10 

She was not one of them 

Then one day all that came to an end 

I wish i was young again