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DMT:The God Detector

 

       Christ said: ‘If you have but the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains.’ That statement examined from a metaphysical perspective and not a biblical one, may offer the ontological key to unlock worlds of wonder and endow man with limitless power. And, the pineal gland of the human brain may be the source of such power. It has been throughout history known as the Third Eye, The All Seeing Eye, and the Eye of God.

 

Soon to be released: Between Shadow and Smoke

 

      How did I get to this wretched place maligned by the shadows of iniquity and the clamminess of self-deprecation?

     A murder of crows had descended down upon my field of dreams. My inner self, stands idly by while my spiritual harvest is ravished by thousands of tiny, ravenous beaks

      Read Excerpts of my latest book, a memoir entitled Between Shadow and Smoke. Follow my often tragic and frightening journey from jail, addiction to educator, author, and publisher.

YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO PUT IT DOWN.

 

 

Harlem Breezin'

Eyes That Gaze

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eyes that gaze through concrete windows to pageant worlds, where

manifold suns nestle at the feet of Mother Earth.                                                                                                           

Lakes collect into clouds underfoot and

Butterfly fish swim in pools of paper mache.

Waves trudge back to rejoin oceans that harbor no horizons.

Woodlands line the shore of infinite darkness, and light case no memories of sin and separateness.

 

Shades pass darkness light the way home.

There, trees hold hands beneath night clouds that just lay there.

This is where the rivers of time go to rest from their long journey to nowhere.

Effigies of people wear clay faces and asphalt leggings.

Anvils cry out where toes once tapped.  

And mouths speak words that can only be whispered loud enough for no one to hear.

 

All roads led across ice-covered lakes where the cold air presses against sheets of colorless cold.

Traceless tracks mosey through cogs of time that angled deep in the ice.

Where clock faces gaze down upon tireless travelers with eyes that see only summer.

 

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