Tuesday, May 31, 2011


Monday, 
awoke without direction.
To race the future with no special plan
Impaled on some dream I seek reserection
For love was the cross and  hte nails in my hands




Thursday, March 17, 2011


In the thin veil of morning
Behind a hidden rose,
Red and rain, like diamonds, 
sit as tears amongst the thorns 
Lost within it's beauty
A fragile flash of life
Sacred to this moment
and the early morning light.

Monday, March 7, 2011



Random thoughts, refined and lost, deep within the truth
Loving acts of kindness; missing dreams of youth
One blank page to capsulate all of my concerns
Such simple things are often lost 
Inside these lessons learned

Sunday, March 6, 2011


Strange solace 'tis found in this morning’s coffee,
Trying not to think ...........of ghosts.....
that hide in a moment.....
Lost souls in their anguish
Like steam they are rising
To vanquish the air, only to fade
Disapear in the half light
Of the start of a day
I sit stiring reflections
That dance on the ripples
Staring back, Somber zombies
That live in the dark brew,
an awakening of souls 
A wish for control,
A wish to be sharper, 
More aggressive,
more personable,
my search for survival,
....... and no fear of tomorrow,
To be one with the future the rest of my days
Yet soon I must peek out from under this ritual
And war with those monsters it once kept at bay.

Saturday, February 26, 2011


Do not embrace these windswept leaves that brown within the winter trees, that blow away like scattered ash to lie alone while shadows past and silver suns set ‘pon your head and flowers bloom to make your bed. Pay no heed to those which stand and judge the work of God and the toll of time upon your face, upon your soul, those tattered scars, that promised life, forever marred, and seek that love within the dark and hold me in these waning years.

Thursday, February 24, 2011


O’ Linda with the brightest eyes, stands alone, black dress that silhouette those years that passed,  your children gone, you look around, there’s something’s wrong. It’s all changed, the mirror doesn’t reflect that girl who twirls and sways to candle light and barefoot soul, those songs upon the record, play away your yesterdays and inside a dream you dance alone with shadows on the wall.

Thursday, February 10, 2011


Ancient marbled mountains recede in winter's icy flow
Blue sapphire envelopes the spot where I often stand
Eye of sorcerers, glare and wander in dark angry spaces
Bird’s o prey glides the thermals high above this shadow land
My silhouette is long; it taints the mists that swirl inside the water's fall
I alone, within myself, can hear the quiet mountain’s call
Against this cold I cup my hand into a fist, as if to hold a tiny rock
And carefully I take it all and calmly put it deep within my pocket
I turn myself against the cold; I turn my thoughts against the snow
I warm my heart inside the sun that spots the dyeing forest floor
Brown and wasted, crisp it crackles as I ramble down its mighty slope
My soul once touched the face of God, for here is where he gave me hope
But now I’m lost in cityscape, and humanity covers like greying moss
I try to breathe the petrol air, and within its stress my life is lost.
To escape would be my only hope; sanctuary’s found in nature's charm
Sadly though,  to return to what I love the most will only do my lover harm
So I walk amongst my kind, drifting through its alleys, networking, searching
And in those lost a solace times my soul travels to that place I once called friend.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


there are phases
in my life,
things of interest,
things to share with my father
as time passes
on a continuous stream
of hopefuls dreams
of broken sceams
things
to hold on to
interests 
often times
make no sense,
seem to clutter
that futile feeling
that all is for not,
that when it's over it goes with you
hangs over my head
Like a dark cloud
questioning the reasons
For what is the use
I capture it in pictures
to revisit this journey 
and this again I question
what quest do I take with me
in the ending of my days
In my reach for heaven
what do I take from here
What was this light
That once felt love?

Tuesday, February 1, 2011


It's not a struggle, these demons I wrestle.
For me, feel not sorry, for it's just my way.
My obsession is control. I mean you no harm,
don't be afraid, please, don't be alarmed
For you scare me more than you realize.
To walk amongst the living is the greatest of fears
for I wish to hide in my head, live in my lies
find comfortable depressions, solice in the dark
I don't wish to come out, to do so is painful 
This fear of my failures is a strain on my heart
but to stand alone, by myself and look in your eyes
I peak around walls and stumble outside

Monday, January 24, 2011


Oft times we sit, quiet, trying to stop time's passing. Our eyes close to treasure lost moments as if that one deep breath will make it all clear. We attempt to still our hearts .... our minds.... those random thoughts that collide, out of control, seem only to smash against some wall. We, with all our might, seek the stillness of the air, yet the questions still rise and the sun still sets and the answers never come.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

"Self - mutilation" 18x14 Acrylic on britol by Terrence L Cope 

A line
Drawn
Staring back
Taunts me
As if laughing
It owns me,
It sits on piece of white paper
White fucking paper ,
Bright  
White
Paper
 Just a line
Dark, black, charcoal
Burnt wood
A beginning,
Stopped
As if to reflect my life
It Stands alone
On this stupid page
Like some "imagined" importance
By itself,
Going nowhere
A block ........
A LINE

Sunday, January 16, 2011



Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Life is the program, you are the programer
Write the program .....................corrupted

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

"Flying Tiger" 18x24 Pencil on Paper by TL Cope. Click for larger image

Cold morning air, motors spit fire through the velvet smoke, propellers turn
Painted warrior, a chariot awaits your rise, she's been up for hours now
Wood splintered, canvas torn roundel, you silohette against the sun
As bullet rips the flesh, blood flows in fire and oil stains the glass
Black smoke, rich and burnt, lifeless, dances to the ground
Its dark spiral pirouettes in the winds, anguish cries carry then fade
Scented letters tied in ribbon under silken scarved tattered skies
It was simple then, it did not end with this life, this war,
Today, I am not so sure.

Monday, January 10, 2011

"Nude - white and reds" January 2010 Graphite, Ink and Acrylic by TL Cope.