Sunday, September 20, 2015

Bullet blows

1.Handles
These sink
into 
the bottom
of lungs
so small
that winter
wears them 
out
for a walk
down 
paths
unfamiliar
and strange
these are
the beasts
that we
feed
and the reason why
we are alive.

2. Comfort
Make me
into these
your fields
of glory
and present
my soul
as a stone
upon the 
hearts of
those
who never 
had a 
choice.

3. Water
Speak now
I beg
to hear
the voice
of a king
and the rapture
of a God.

4. Rope
Your hands
square
like stone
upon this
fragile crest
you call 
a body
made of flesh
and bone
and water
we bathe
in the lather
and stop 
for no one
but,
the sun

5. Baby
Head held
high
upon this
ground
we close
our eyes
and sleep
the day

6. Furious
How do 
I not
wait 
for you
How do 
I not
roll in 
whatever
is left
of hope
and lift
my thoughts
to it ----
STOP!!!
Things will 
never turn 
this shade 
of black
even in the 
fuel of night
when the weather
has struck cold
deep in a 
young man's 
heart.

7. Cluster
Keep the center
of the whiskey warm
freeze the rest
I find it too bitter
salt 
down
sinks
down
d
o
w
n
sails
into icy water
while the snakes
eat our bones
and the pasta
grows cold on
the kitchen table
whiskey warm
is hollow ground
it forms a bond
with the brick
that I must defend
that I will.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Brand New 7 for 9/16/2015

1.Mess
All these mirrors
rushing
bending
taking turns
with the circles
never ending
collapsing
on each other
to make it
to the finish line
to make it out first
to win the metal
and claim the prize
but,
there is
no talent
left
no hopeless romantic
to lead the pack
and all that died
within the floorboards
of that car
at that station
stayed hidden
white ruins
until now

2.Station
Wave a flag
on serenity
keep it moving
til she passes by
and holds my hands
in her death stroke
confusion
from the crossing guards
up the street
these are the lyrics
that we die for
the endless soul
of our perpetual belief
relief from what ails us
and calls us back home
what seems familiar
but leaves us
when we need it most
calling out for her
I pass midnight
in the blue of her eyes
she swallows
the stars
and I keep it
from exploding
through her mouth
she swallows
the moon
and eats the Earth
while it is ripe
I have no home
but her
and she no warrior
but me

3.  Giving
Within this mist
the fear comes
trembling back
with claw paws
hands at the roof
of its mouth
and simple tools
meant to destroy
we never kill our enemy
but, we gather
the flesh
and keep it whole
save it
to eat later
when the guardians
are awake
and the lightning
has called to slumber
dare we drive
this alert
to no one
and only the closest
shall come
to partake
of the heart

4. Search
With this
we rest
our bones
in servitude
to you
your
grace
we humbly collect
the mass
you call
a grave
and surrender
our keys
to you
with one hand
given the rocks
to break our bones
how can we not
reveal everything
within
a
whisper

5. Sweat
How do
we stop
the angry mob
coming to kill
the youth
how do we make
them forget
all the horror
that has been done
we collect
it all in a
paper sack
and draw it out
into the world
with leaves made of
silver
and
gold
we pledge
fury
to the beast
nestled in the pit
of our breast
and all the while
we sleep
with long eyelashes
and curly hair
naked
in the water

6.  Define
Gear up
this time
we never stop
we drink their
blood
we piss on the heads
of their infants
we sink our teeth
into their necks and pull
pull everything out
all of their happiness
the marrow
from the bone
and we forgive
nothing

7.Me
I really don't see
this powerful me
I don't see her
in the mirror
of hear her
when I speak
I don't even know
that she is there
I hope that she continues
this powerful me


Saturday, July 18, 2015

A new start...


Hello Everyone!!!
  Unfortunately, I was cut from "Abnormal Entertainment," so I won't be doing any shows for a bit...but, hopefully soon my shows will be on the radio.  I am working with a new radio channel to go on the air hopefully in October...102.9 FM....please go on my Facebook page and support us if you can...or right here as well....https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/get-on-air-launch-kdif...but, in the meantime...I am working on a new book and here's some poems for you!!!!  Thank you all...I will also continue my interviews when the show goes on the air...and for those of you that live in Arizona...I just might have you come down and record in person...we shall see....:)...Thank you all so much...My show is very important to me and I am trying to continue it to the best of my ability!!!  Let's hope that 102.9 FM will be an awesome start...for a new start...to support my show...:)!!!!


garden
how do 
I make it?
out of the corner
of your eye
little spot
little spot
so grim
place my hand
on your shoulder
and watch
the world
spin

Grace
Beat 
the numbers
raw 
turning heads
how bashful
we wink
and then forget
why we said
hello

Sugar Skulls
I forget 
how humble
the thick crust
from homemade
cherry pie
bread pudding 
thick with syrup
on a cold winters day
when all you want
to remember
is the way
the rain tastes
in the cold January
fog

press
there are blue flowers
there
beyond the trees
we picked them
once before
and set them 
on her grave
when the ice
settled beyond
the pond
and we could
take the shortcut
over the ice
before it broke

Made
It broke again
today
The small glass pieces
went everywhere
and she
stopped me
from walking 
barefoot
into the hallway

Me
Can you tell 
me again?
Just more
Just more
Just one more 
time
before
I fall asleep
and I forget
all over again

Teeth
I was never afraid
loose grass
the turn
of the heads
in the garden
with cocktails
we set
the camera down
and forget
the long trees
dress one day
over the next
make it beautiful
before the open door
quiet
quiet
still
break the lense
flash the bulb
my bitter heart
moves 
through empty 
crates

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

102.9 FM


Getting "Myriads of Thought" set up on a new and up and coming radio station...back us up if you can.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/get-on-air-launch-kdif

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Chickendino

City
William?
are you there?
Yes love.  Always
Never go away.
never.

blue
We pass beyond
coiled farms
of yesteryear
and the peace
of all those collected

exit
The reign
of this endless night
sour and cold
I answer
for awhile
until the sun fades
and the sky
turns black
no one seems
alive.

start
when do 
we know
when to fly
if our wings
are ready 
to takeoff
and kiss
the claws
hello?

Blessed
We weep
for memories
not recorded
for the hope
of moments
struck
into pieces 
a long time 
ago.

keep
there is a place
where we can go
to forget
and bathe
in the happiness
that is our 
newborn childhood

A penny
sulfur linings
search streams
Saturn's coming up
against the corner
of the beams
from on things short
and hazy
new beginnings
will arise
to remind us
of black and white
films
without any 
sound

Tuesday, May 12, 2015


If you are looking for my show "Myriads of Thought" (my podcast) or my blog....please come to https://www.facebook.com/MyriadsOfThought?ref=hl......from now on...I have an up and coming show with horror writer Christopher Ransom...Thanks and see you soon....:)

Friday, April 24, 2015

Blue

bright
beautiful
the color
of the sun
Slowly fading off
into some
descent 
landing

Dark side
complete 
the light turn
distant swirling
light dancing
to the surface
of the moon
and back

Be brave
How quiet dreams
become the ceaseless reality
of our
everyday lives

Boiler
Force the issue
remember
this is your life
make the most
of every thought
keep the rising surface
from stumbling off
the face of
the Earth

Burial
there comes 
a time
closely held
that all things
will turn
to dust

Play
swamp
the rolls
over songs
slip the noose
sturdy the struggle
how carelessly
we give it
away

dive
broken fingers
writing in
oblivion
stretching to 
the found
colored apples

Saturday, April 4, 2015

a hundred years

happy
the sweetness
that graces
cold
wet
nose
hungry in
the middle
of the night
we pause
to pet her furry head
then fill her bowl
to the top
happiness prevails

help
cannot stop
there is a beam
of red light
so pure
above the
wavering step
dragging feet
and limbs
and bones
over furious banks

vomit
that flush
of vibrant colors
permeated by
the mist
that refreshes
it/each pore/
every single day
the wise facet
that pulls you
to the ground
and kicks you in
the stomach.

Georgia
I forget
the pull
of a good memory
the way it leads
you down
unbroken paths
whistling Dixie
in the wind

deathbed
when
the time comes
I'll smile
and think
I wish
I had
more time

True Love
What do
I have
to do
to have
to get
what
I need
makes
me think
that you
don't need
me anymore

am
can
the honest
call upon
those thick lips
desperate in need
of strange hope
holding crazily
onto the rum
of distant fields
be present
in the moment.
Ride on

Monday, March 16, 2015

Never gone...

A small side-note:
  "Myriads of Thought" will be back soon.  In the last couple of months, I have dealt with several illnesses.  I also discovered that I am bi-polar.  I appreciate every one's support and love.  I adore my show.  It means the world to me and so does my audience.  I plan on returning as soon as I am able to, so please stay by my side.  I have tons of stories to tell.  :)-Love you all!!!!

Neptune
We will gather
over time
and our numbers
will spread
like a wild flame
like a great beast
hopefully for
the next kill.
Yes, we will rise.

Flight
Blue green
as the river
holds my hand
at the base
of the spine
there is never
a warning
only the first
glimpse
of retreat
from fearless warriors
that are bound
to glory 
and death.

Monks
these careful creatures
we never hide from
only hold onto
when the light falls
down against 
the cold stairs

Grace
this warm
this fascination
all will be over soon
and a moment
a memory
of what once was
will be all
I'll have left

loss
did we speak
forever
in the cold mucks
of silver gray
towards the heart
of the beating 
sky?

price
these words
are not endless
they come
only to those
who listen
and stop
when one
loses gratitude.

Future
how famous 
do you want
to be?
how successful?
how admired?
there are weaker 
thoughts 
than these
but, 
the dream
to be a better
human
is what should be
inevitable.  

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Our own


Boundless
There stands 
TALL
as an invisible wall
the word
COURAGE

tarnished
how does 
one break
over kindness
so small
dictated by truth
so insignificant
as to utter
a word
the thought
comes back to me
now
how powerful
these seldom felt
promises make us
feel the deepening cold
all the more

Childhood
we run
through blades of grass
like pirates
at sea
never fearful 
of the imposing 
storm

Password
The calm comfort
of home
wanders reluctantly 
in the door
pittering against
the small bridges
where we stand
holding hands

tan
did they solve
the brilliant creature?
suffering needlessly
over pale pink moons
no more the graceful pearl
wise beyond their years
I shrink back
and stillness beats

Rolling
value one
up by seen
press fingers
to glass 
and kiss

stay
how we break
the hearts 
of those we love
more than life itself
over and over
forgetting how precious
they are
those seldom move
or stray
from our side
but sit
quiet and steady
listening to our life
untold
the gradual 
the quick
the haunted frames
coming to paddle
the boat
without any cars
in the bliss filled 
night




Saturday, February 7, 2015

Rattlesnake Jello

weird
the ribs broke off
carelessly
how tired you look
the color
from your eyes
faded
what sweet sound
of music
passes through
thick lips
on the brink
of something
beautiful

Pinkie
Hand me down
the pink teddy bear
from your youth
Place him in careful
hands
that give kisses
every night

Tomorrow
Pluck all lucky habits
old
and forgotten
as they may be
and burn them whole

dirt
you'll find them
inside
twisting towards tattoo
what happened
to your leg
right there?
Don't you know
how you got that?

suds
i end
in bubbles
smiling soap
friendly until
the bitter pop

Loft
why time
oh my
tell me all
about it
on weekends
watching every story
from this real person
on harboring
baked quilts
in pleasant gardens

sit down
where
when I was a kid
were you?
And all else
is an afterthought


Friday, January 30, 2015

Sungeiby

Swamp
How does one
offer silent shadows
against the freezing
rain
bearing in mind
that I am
alone.

House
I only hope
the bravery comes
soon and
willingly
only over
the rough dirt
built with care

Lines
Dream blue
Setting soil
dream endless
and mercy filled
in complete
sentences

Blonde
Built on
beautiful
doesn't always
work
it is
the consent mystery
that gets noticed

Red
Twinkle
down plastic steps
of melting dust
and rotting foam
and wipe all
away that bother
to speak

Ladder
Shatter
when called
the omens run
scattered in
the opposite direction

Dragonfly
Do
when you trail
sleepless over
the mountains high
ever remember
the cold clutch
of hands
all over
the pale skin
of your beating
heart?
Never fond
we walk
in circles
against the dead
rising fast
holding
the snow
in our pure
transparent fingers
pounding
the ground
for answers
when no one
arrives.



Sunday, January 25, 2015

Spatulism

Axe
There is
a line
within the red
deep blue
almost purple
how it
washes away
what we once
thought
was pain.

Pity
The never
to be far
it creates
a panic
despair
ruffles in
the only soaring
source
of pleasure

Fix
We quiet few
Restless within
the nights of glory
hungry for
the reign
of more
shifting
shifting
down gold
spider webs
bend
at the break

Warm
i declare
this night free
put up
your feet
and set still
from the world
it is only
then
that there
can be
peace.

James
The pattern
stalking back
stalking forth
the graceful cut
clean
and to
the point
with steady hand
made careful

Buddha
I answer
when the rain
comes slowly
only opening
slightly
against the blooming
orange tree

Please
Fly down
past the pasture
over rocky hills
where the wait
digs deeper
everyday.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Morbid Introspection

Gravity
We ransom veins
haul them
into our
U-haul trucks
and
our moving vans
and for one 
brief moment
we wonder why
the Earth
is round.

Nightshift
She whirls around
viper head
caustic mouth
nothing sweet
or good
in her hatred
of me

Weak
How vacant
do we persist
in the intentions
of others?

Dream
There never passes
only this
brilliant space
dictated
by individual players
why wait
for the day 
to arrive
when night
can be 
so splendid

Kept
The fresh
cut cleavage
waiting for 
misery
engulfed
in the small
structured
flames
of holy men
with strong
mannerisms

Boogeyman
This of all
We run amok
the tingling
in our fingers
of our hands
and we pray
that before bedtime
he does not come
again.

Disease
Stretch by
this awful truth
it leaves
nothing unturned
for the telling
of the eyes
this fruit
we miss
sticky and rotting.  



Thursday, January 15, 2015

Buy Hollis' Books!

Like the Universe Gasping for Air

The word reality holds much different definitions for one individual as it does for another. What one considers real is based on ones point of view and their correlation to the world around them based in all of the five senses. But, what if your perception of the world around you was distorted? What would happen if you couldn’t rely on your own sense of reality? John has just been in a near fatal car accident. He had several seizures. John could be anyone. Everyman. He is suffering from an illness that he seemingly cannot control which is deteriorating his memory. As we travel within John’s illness, within his life, we try to unravel what is the truth and what is a lie. There is also a great correlation between John is experiencing and what their Australian Shepard/ Border Collie is experiencing, as if she gave him these seizures. We experience the illness of epilepsy in different ways and through different realities throughout the book. Nestled within the lives of these two individuals, Helen and John, we not only come to see their relationship but to understand their individual points of view. Touched by horror and fear, “Like the universe gasping for air,” is a culmination of human endeavors, of what we allow to dictate our emotions and in the end who we love.

Paperback
Kindle



The Dark

Imagine a building encased in history. You are standing at its doors, massive and stone. They open with a thick echo. Your feet support your frame on the cold ground. You walk inside and instantly feel a certain uncomfortable quiver in your stomach. You could swear that someone is standing right behind you-right next to you-staring from above. You turn and look to your left, right and towards the looming staircase in front of you. Nothing. Everything in you says to leave, but common sense gets in your way and you tell yourself to walk ahead. “The Dark” is based upon a true story-slightly fictionalized. In 1832, The Saint Francis of Assisi Orphanage opened as a hopeful and legitimate resource for unwanted and orphaned children. The orphanage was maintained and organized by the priests and nuns of the service. Donations to the church outfitted the orphanage with its supplies plus with its medical provisions. But, after five years the outpour of orphans became overwhelming and so, the church had no choice but to open up its facilities to the mentally impaired as well. The frustrated and mostly rich families with mentally or psychologically challenged relatives or children were only happy to fund the orphanage in exchange for a place to drop off their unwanted problems and release themselves from embarrassment. During a period of time, when mental illness was an unknown factor-the orphanage became an unholy mixture of women, children and men-without any separating walls. Soon, a doctor was brought into the mix and experiments began to be conducted. But, in 1932 Sister Mary Catherine changed everything. She set the asylum on fire and burned it to the ground. Sixty-eight of the eighty children perished in the fire. Not many patients made it out alive and Sister Mary set herself aflame without telling anyone her reasoning. Now, almost eighty years later, all the secrets of the asylum are going to be revealed and nothing will ever be the same again.

Paperback
Kindle



Yours, Truly: A Mother's Son (Volume 1)

William James is a serial killer. But, he is not your basic killer. He is the equivalent of a vampire for the next century, an individual that suffers from Renfield’s Syndrome or the incurable need for human blood. After he murders his fanatically religious mother, who has suppressed him his entire life and who killed his pregnant girlfriend, William begins an incestuous relationship with his half sister that will turn him into an anti-hero by presenting him with the opportunity to redeem himself. After leaving his hometown of Stonecliff, he will continue searching for a balance between the illness and the newly evolved anti-hero that he has become. For William is a Chinmera with two sets of DNA and his male twin living inside of him who craves blood as well. “Yours, Truly” is the story of the James family. A family set upon with black magic and the supernatural. Throughout his search, William meets a woman that accepts him and helps him to both adapt to and understand himself. William is also a writer, and throughout the graphic novel he begins to write his own novel about his life-a book inside a collection of books. “Yours, Truly” incorporates legend, myth, psychic abilities,telekinesis,witches, demons, angels, the devil, genetic mutation, blood fetish, punk, Goth, music, Literature, Buddhism and the question of the existence of God to tell the story of the James family and of one man’s search for resolution within the aspect of himself and his family.

Paperback
Kindle



The Ever

William James is a serial killer. But, he is not your basic killer. He is the equivalent of a vampire for the next century, an individual that suffers from Renfield’s Syndrome or the incurable need for human blood. After he murders his fanatically religious mother, who has suppressed him his entire life and who killed his pregnant girlfriend, William begins an incestuous relationship with his half sister that will turn him into an anti-hero by presenting him with the opportunity to redeem himself. After leaving his hometown of Stonecliff, he will continue searching for a balance between the illness and the newly evolved anti-hero that he has become. For William is a Chinmera with two sets of DNA and his male twin living inside of him who craves blood as well. “Yours, Truly” is the story of the James family. A family set upon with black magic and the supernatural. Throughout his search, William meets a woman that accepts him and helps him to both adapt to and understand himself. William is also a writer, and throughout the graphic novel he begins to write his own novel about his life-a book inside a collection of books. “Yours, Truly” incorporates legend, myth, psychic abilities,telekinesis,witches, demons, angels, the devil, genetic mutation, blood fetish, punk, Goth, music, Literature, Buddhism and the question of the existence of God to tell the story of the James family and of one man’s search for resolution within the aspect of himself and his family.

Kindle