His Orgasmic Face                           Below The Staircase  Birth Morning is like a birth. I am bursting through  a cracked shell. Pushed from a womb. Unaware of my form, forced into existence. I remove slime from my eyes. Part my pasty lips with a yawn for life. I am alive again, from lying dormant  during the night.  Parts of my body, tender and sore from an unconscious struggle. Into life I take form. Greeted by the songs of hysterical birds. Then quite an ache stings my first thought. I have to find purpose, In which causes my blood to flow.  

The Dragon ( Inspired by my favorite trunpeter Lee Morgan )                           Nude Man Relaxing After A Bath 2nd version  The Dragon ( For my favorite trumpeter Lee Morgan ) He is considered the dragon  Because he takes the stage with a vengeance. And the wrath of fire exits his trumpet. The scream of ancestors, from this throat of slender brass. The drums rattle in his pulse, as he awakens the earth. And the motives of demons are shattered  by the highest notes of unmuted trumpet fire.