HEG George Biography

He traipsed toward my face.
My grey, imperious majesty.
Impervious to strong fingers
and rubber-soled feet
...

A gathering of whispers travel from breath to breath,
much like trains picking up chattering gossips along its
route. With breath held, they stand and wait to join the
last exhale of the wretch stood on the hanging platform.
...

Don’t hold me to blame.
The road was never straight
nor the wind mild of frame
...

Like a distant relative, the moon looks down
upon the face of its ravaged cousin, with
eyebrows arched and telling finger raised. All
the while giving thanks for its airless habitat
...

From cave pictures, with hand sprayed self portraits.
To a churches pulpit displaying Psalm Twenty Three.
The writing's on the wall
...