My dream was stolen and how I cried the day I remember was when I died







GIVE ME BACK MY BROKEN DREAM – I died dreaming of living


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GIVE ME BACK MY BROKEN DREAM – I died dreaming of living
Prostitutes hope sex and poetry


You corrupt deceiver in the night
Come when unseen
Promises of tomorrows delight
I heard your voice
I lost my sight
My flame extinguished
In your darkness dream
You promised light
You’ve come tomorrow
In the fears that have been


What have you done with my childhood dream
A world in peace and absence of lies
My neighbors care
There are no flies I want my Love
This hunger deep within
Slept with lust and lost the art
To touch your wound and play my part
A lover with some tender dream
Died the death of a mortal In your polluted stream


What of love I now see your charm
You promised me a life of thrills
Without the payment plan
I learned heartless drills
Pleasures with no boundaries set
My appetite was naked
Therefore all to wet

Thief defeated

Worn out
There it was I wept
In the shadow of the valley of death
The tears of a wounded child had dried
An angel up on high had cried
My broken cries were heard above
The immortal sang his song of Love
Mercy broke the thief’s domain
And there it was

A dove

I was born again


This hurt as I wrote it. Human trafficking into a loveless profession is a diabolically dark deception. To contemplate the journey, the suffering, the abuse and loneliness in the madness of a loveless profession undid my emotional plug. It enticed me into tears of intercession.

An inspiration for the artwork came from the Digital photo art I created many years ago.

Stopped at traffic lights in a rainstorm the memory of this story embedded a deep impact in my heart. In the red light, district rain played an orchestra of color on the windscreen. A question was provoked, “What troubles are secretly hidden, the unspoken fears of those meshed in this lifestyle?”

The emotional journey led me in and out of my past. The heartache in broken promises, uncontrollable lust, fear of rejection, little respect for the opposite sex, manipulation, and lies is a painful revelation. I had discovered the tears of someone’s daughter. The broken world I never understood.

Included in this artwork

A photo collage of torrential rain on my car windscreen, two girls photographed on a park bench, a handmade pottery bowl and the photo of a dove from Brian’s rule of doves. The images I photographed in Auckland City, Snells Beach, and Warkworth.

A Pleasure

Beneath intimacy with Jesus, sex is the most powerful, attractive, beautiful and intimate experience known to mankind. A conscience usurped by a perversion of natural or Godless ideas will find sex only satisfies for a small moment of time or at worst be a horrifying ordeal.

The wonder in sex is extraordinary when it involves tenderness, emotional, physical pleasures and caring connection.

It embodies emotion, physical, biological, psychological and spiritual experience. The author of all that is good points us to such pleasure. This wonder is protected when living within the manufacturer’s guidelines. The security of this trust and intimacy is a mystery to many who have experienced violations of the sexual act. I and many of my friends know this intimately.

There is no doubt, deep pleasure, for a season outside of these boundaries, is also fraught with pain. In the dark halls of favors for income, bestiality, rape, masturbation, all the darkness of human pleasure-seeking without boundaries bring shame into our conscious being.

These pleasures without moral boundaries cannot bring the peace and security we deeply crave to be a fulfilled person. For men and women trust is broken and innocence lost when sex is coerced or forced. This is a violation of all intentions for good. Initially, that sense of shame overwhelms into the darkness of secrecy. Damage is done and all attending pleasures and frustrations within a trapped lifestyle will become insurmountable for many. Treasures and promises are made but peace never comes. Where is prince charming?

Separation from reality is a dark road of secret loneliness. Only the person who feels trapped truly understands.

A sense of shame

Initially, the sense of shame overwhelms into the darkness of secrecy and appealing physical pleasure. The damage had started. All attending frustrations ensnared a wish to live a lifestyle lacking peace and the trust hungered for.

The dark road of loneliness is perpetuated without peace. Philosophies wanting to cover or justify pain abound but truth shouts loudly, a conscience has been seared.

Only an honest person trapped in the cycle truly understands. A person rescued from the cycle has wisdom and understanding echoing life in the joys of new found freedom.

This is their story and I write it for them. A story of deception and deliverance.



ORIGINAL FOR SALE  * Bid or tender for the original artwork. All offers considered above $750.
6b and 4b lead pencil on archival, acid-free watercolor paper. The illustration is protected with matt UV archival varnish.
* Originals and Limited Edition reproductions supplied with Provenance, coded Authentication of Sale Certificate and maintenance/care information.

Please ask about frames, sizes, and price.
* Pencil enhanced Giclée Fine Art Papers.

Unframed sizes | 960 x short side – $1150  |  650 x short side – $925
Printed on long life archival canvas and protected with two coats of UV archival protection spray.
* Stretch mounted reproductions will incur added charges for mounting and freight.

Unframed sizes | 594 x short side – $145  |  420 x short side – $95
* Posters printed on fine art papers and treated with two coats of UV archival protection spray.


Images from “Holy Hands Worship” will be exhibited on Women’s Fashions through Vida and multiple product lines at Fine Art America

  • Includes insurance and package/handling fees.
  • The Original and Limited Edition reproductions ship with the Provenance coded Authentication of Sale Certificate and maintenance information.
  • Poster art prints ship in insured tubes.

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