the heretic
The breath spills, it seeds the shadows waiting furtively to consume the world. The breath sighs, it mingles with the wind that falls and falls. Heart beat, heart stop-- the slumbering flesh awakes in blinks and twitches. The heat that aimed to devour the day won it all, and yet it fades a little with the leaving of the light. The heat that...
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The breath spills, it seeds the shadows waiting furtively to consume the world. The breath sighs, it mingles with the wind that falls and falls. Heart beat, heart stop-- the slumbering flesh awakes in blinks and twitches. The heat that aimed to devour the day won it all, and yet it fades a little with the leaving of the light. The heat that...
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glass half-full
I thought I was done with drinking
though the glass still has farther to go.
The tree bending with the wind,
the sun still harboring the work of ants.
Our labors are eventually all that is left
once we get to leaving. I can only stay still
so long, then everything has to have a say.
The paving stones, the broken bricks,
the...
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I thought I was done with drinking
though the glass still has farther to go.
The tree bending with the wind,
the sun still harboring the work of ants.
Our labors are eventually all that is left
once we get to leaving. I can only stay still
so long, then everything has to have a say.
The paving stones, the broken bricks,
the...
Read More
i wrote it all down
There are bruises forming between my words and my meanings. Even those that I can never grasp show the effects of the speed of my missing. From root to limb, from leaf to sky, from green to blue-- I lose a little something in the journey. And each loss leaves a mark, the brutish grip of my flawed intentions. These...
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There are bruises forming between my words and my meanings. Even those that I can never grasp show the effects of the speed of my missing. From root to limb, from leaf to sky, from green to blue-- I lose a little something in the journey. And each loss leaves a mark, the brutish grip of my flawed intentions. These...
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the antithesis of alibi
All the stars are falling, wishes wasted, candles spent. The glass is a slow tide, trickling away in the artificial light. The winds moves the trees, the whole sky sets its hips to swaying. The limbs of the cut down tree scrape the wall, sounding like a broom upon the walk. Midnight stills, then overflows. The lights are out and the...
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All the stars are falling, wishes wasted, candles spent. The glass is a slow tide, trickling away in the artificial light. The winds moves the trees, the whole sky sets its hips to swaying. The limbs of the cut down tree scrape the wall, sounding like a broom upon the walk. Midnight stills, then overflows. The lights are out and the...
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human voice
Suddenly the sky has eyes lit through the unusual cover of crawling clouds, seeming to stare at me with disappointment or contempt. The illusion is unsettling, the story of my limping mind set free above these sleepy streets. The vision burning between power lines wilting, these dreams that wander frantic as I stumble into another day. I hear a braying conversation a bit...
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Suddenly the sky has eyes lit through the unusual cover of crawling clouds, seeming to stare at me with disappointment or contempt. The illusion is unsettling, the story of my limping mind set free above these sleepy streets. The vision burning between power lines wilting, these dreams that wander frantic as I stumble into another day. I hear a braying conversation a bit...
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the high ladder
The day has no direction, save the tendency to lean into the west. Dawn shuffles across the tree tops, it slides alone the roof. Brick to brick the shift is in. Sore limbs and hazy eyes make their varied adjustments. The fauna slips from bats to birds.
I wake up tired of waking, tired of the blunt edges placed upon rough dreams....
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The day has no direction, save the tendency to lean into the west. Dawn shuffles across the tree tops, it slides alone the roof. Brick to brick the shift is in. Sore limbs and hazy eyes make their varied adjustments. The fauna slips from bats to birds.
I wake up tired of waking, tired of the blunt edges placed upon rough dreams....
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settle
Oh but the light is always leaving,
our prayers wrung so hollow,
crumbs stuck to the plate.
Dusk only settles when the reckoning is wrong,
those lingering persuasions of sun,
the unintended blessings mentioned
as the passing of tired burdens.
The palette chooses grays and blues,
the black coffee bitter,
the moon but a husk.
The bassline beats at blood and stucco
the plaster...
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Oh but the light is always leaving,
our prayers wrung so hollow,
crumbs stuck to the plate.
Dusk only settles when the reckoning is wrong,
those lingering persuasions of sun,
the unintended blessings mentioned
as the passing of tired burdens.
The palette chooses grays and blues,
the black coffee bitter,
the moon but a husk.
The bassline beats at blood and stucco
the plaster...
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this intimate dust
Make enough mistakes, a few are bound to be beautiful. Nature takes its time, but we are wound on different strings. The mirror tells it all, the race is on, fate is fleeting and there is nothing won without losing. So we cut corners, we burn bridges. We sever all limits and sting the only thing that might save us just to...
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Make enough mistakes, a few are bound to be beautiful. Nature takes its time, but we are wound on different strings. The mirror tells it all, the race is on, fate is fleeting and there is nothing won without losing. So we cut corners, we burn bridges. We sever all limits and sting the only thing that might save us just to...
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starlight
Somehow the light does not leave when I close my eyes. The glow has nestled there, close to my flesh, caught in refraction or burned into the essence of sight. Sleep strays, and waking is always strange. A few words harbored from some unfettered dream, some absurd certainty that was all but true several breaths ago. Vision is all but broken the moment I...
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Somehow the light does not leave when I close my eyes. The glow has nestled there, close to my flesh, caught in refraction or burned into the essence of sight. Sleep strays, and waking is always strange. A few words harbored from some unfettered dream, some absurd certainty that was all but true several breaths ago. Vision is all but broken the moment I...
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plain
The sallow breath of the sea sat upon the dawn, the broad hush of gray, the soft kiss of wings as they rise. The wind, so soft and cool, caresses it all like a lover readying betrayal. This gentle ruse begins as retreat, and spins so slowly upon its heels you hardly notice the turning. There was a promise, and there was a plan,...
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The sallow breath of the sea sat upon the dawn, the broad hush of gray, the soft kiss of wings as they rise. The wind, so soft and cool, caresses it all like a lover readying betrayal. This gentle ruse begins as retreat, and spins so slowly upon its heels you hardly notice the turning. There was a promise, and there was a plan,...
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brimmed
Somedays I awake having lost my name, the self only one tether, a figment of stability awashed in possibilities. For a few moments I lose all the rumor and strife that bind me, that brightest brand alight in the simple joy of not being this one, that dead-ender adrift in such exquisite freedom. As if identity was that certain doom I have thrown so...
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Somedays I awake having lost my name, the self only one tether, a figment of stability awashed in possibilities. For a few moments I lose all the rumor and strife that bind me, that brightest brand alight in the simple joy of not being this one, that dead-ender adrift in such exquisite freedom. As if identity was that certain doom I have thrown so...
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over yonder
It is only that least touch of light finding flesh, that tiny fire you ignite exposed to the household torches and window shine. It is that soft breath captured upon a pillow, that scent of lingering contentment you trail in your dreams. It is that sense of rapture you reveal, glancing out a window in the hum and rattle of a morning train....
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It is only that least touch of light finding flesh, that tiny fire you ignite exposed to the household torches and window shine. It is that soft breath captured upon a pillow, that scent of lingering contentment you trail in your dreams. It is that sense of rapture you reveal, glancing out a window in the hum and rattle of a morning train....
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