cleaving close
Speaking, we cleave close to ghosts. The secret wanderings of our words, the mingling of meanings and of tongues. Each breath exhales small histories, these exalted mysteries of culture and of kin. Each sentence both the inscription on a tomb and a marker towards tomorrow. Quicker than blood, our voices tell us of the inheritance we honor, and of all the intentions we...
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Speaking, we cleave close to ghosts. The secret wanderings of our words, the mingling of meanings and of tongues. Each breath exhales small histories, these exalted mysteries of culture and of kin. Each sentence both the inscription on a tomb and a marker towards tomorrow. Quicker than blood, our voices tell us of the inheritance we honor, and of all the intentions we...
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fossil
Remembering a kiss that cut my lips, I taste tequila and blood. That tangled fervor, fire smoke and sea air, a collision of bone and limb as I held you by your hips and hair. That native urge to devour encompassing every thread of intent. Your flesh radiant with the residual sunlight, glowing beneath the hot press of my hands. Salt on my wounds,...
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Remembering a kiss that cut my lips, I taste tequila and blood. That tangled fervor, fire smoke and sea air, a collision of bone and limb as I held you by your hips and hair. That native urge to devour encompassing every thread of intent. Your flesh radiant with the residual sunlight, glowing beneath the hot press of my hands. Salt on my wounds,...
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folding
Not so much the stories as the gaps, not the virtues but the lapses that persuade, feeding my time to the blue-gray distances, dropping my luck into the jukebox one sliver at a time. The sky empties of excuses, the streets fold into the background, we drive and drive. A whole world of want and waste abounds, crowned with clouds and stars. Crowned with...
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Not so much the stories as the gaps, not the virtues but the lapses that persuade, feeding my time to the blue-gray distances, dropping my luck into the jukebox one sliver at a time. The sky empties of excuses, the streets fold into the background, we drive and drive. A whole world of want and waste abounds, crowned with clouds and stars. Crowned with...
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f-stop
The big damn moon posts halos in the thinner, wispier clouds, scrolling an impermanent O above us all. Not a trial by fire, but by smolder, this last ash hour held tight, balled up inside my heart. Wind chime music with so little wind, spattered asphalt with so little rain. Preposterous people doing preposterous things. All the world a stage just when theater is...
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The big damn moon posts halos in the thinner, wispier clouds, scrolling an impermanent O above us all. Not a trial by fire, but by smolder, this last ash hour held tight, balled up inside my heart. Wind chime music with so little wind, spattered asphalt with so little rain. Preposterous people doing preposterous things. All the world a stage just when theater is...
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what to say, when to go
The night doesn't love you, and the day only stays up to see you break. Time's bitter river flows right through that hole you hide inside, tears and ashes, broken toy's and dead pets. Cold fingers fumbling with your clasps and buttons, you heart full of snubbed out cigarettes and the aimless applause of the rain. The nationless flags...
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The night doesn't love you, and the day only stays up to see you break. Time's bitter river flows right through that hole you hide inside, tears and ashes, broken toy's and dead pets. Cold fingers fumbling with your clasps and buttons, you heart full of snubbed out cigarettes and the aimless applause of the rain. The nationless flags...
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ravish
The aching hour arrives unbidden, separating autonomy and automatic into their own spheres, casting that common magic of rinds and resin. The upright bass bowed for a moment, the unstrung sentiment the tone of shadow struck flesh. I follow the usual revels, the idle hands, the bitter dregs. The songs of cobwebs and caterwauls, the impressive weight of your absence running through my veins....
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The aching hour arrives unbidden, separating autonomy and automatic into their own spheres, casting that common magic of rinds and resin. The upright bass bowed for a moment, the unstrung sentiment the tone of shadow struck flesh. I follow the usual revels, the idle hands, the bitter dregs. The songs of cobwebs and caterwauls, the impressive weight of your absence running through my veins....
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callioppe:
Hi there! I just wanted to thank you for your support on my new set in MR xoxox
position
The moon tangles in the tresses of a winter-limbed tree, the sky a humble cusp of dusk blue. The street cluttered with dry shadows and the screams and scrapes of children. A pick-up game of hoops just around the corner while skaters posture and practice in and out of traffic. Seniors stroll along the sidewalks, carrying their sticks and staffs, ready for trouble. The...
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The moon tangles in the tresses of a winter-limbed tree, the sky a humble cusp of dusk blue. The street cluttered with dry shadows and the screams and scrapes of children. A pick-up game of hoops just around the corner while skaters posture and practice in and out of traffic. Seniors stroll along the sidewalks, carrying their sticks and staffs, ready for trouble. The...
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porphyria:
Thanks for the comment on my new set in MR, "Office Pet", Its was sweet of you <3!
the waltz
You laugh to yourself as this lonesome sound subsides. It is like that old joke, the song plays backwards, and you get your dog and you get your truck and you get your wife. Moving away from the pain, from the hapless dusk and brutal night. Away from the spattered pavement and the flooded gutters, away from the screen and the page. The...
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You laugh to yourself as this lonesome sound subsides. It is like that old joke, the song plays backwards, and you get your dog and you get your truck and you get your wife. Moving away from the pain, from the hapless dusk and brutal night. Away from the spattered pavement and the flooded gutters, away from the screen and the page. The...
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labyrinth
You wake to the incandescence of cats,
you wake to the unwound rain,
all the dreams you saved lost
in the torrent of the times.
You move amid the song of bones,
structured by their secrets,
a hidden tower of ache and years.
The magic you cast with empty pockets,
the spell unspun from the threads
that dangle and tease fingers.
The clues to...
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You wake to the incandescence of cats,
you wake to the unwound rain,
all the dreams you saved lost
in the torrent of the times.
You move amid the song of bones,
structured by their secrets,
a hidden tower of ache and years.
The magic you cast with empty pockets,
the spell unspun from the threads
that dangle and tease fingers.
The clues to...
Read More
false baptismal
The water moves slowly, seeping into the earth, finding the table, leveling off. It condenses on tree limbs, pools in the pottery, drips freely from leaf and eaves. Rain comes and goes, leaving its muddy markers. Foot prints and drowned worms. A sky that cannot help but change its face.
So it is black coffee blues and time on my hands. Feeding strays...
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The water moves slowly, seeping into the earth, finding the table, leveling off. It condenses on tree limbs, pools in the pottery, drips freely from leaf and eaves. Rain comes and goes, leaving its muddy markers. Foot prints and drowned worms. A sky that cannot help but change its face.
So it is black coffee blues and time on my hands. Feeding strays...
Read More
bruised
I awake after sunset, and every little light feels like a fresh bruise against my eyes. I squint, I stagger, pulling drapes and flicking switches. No mail, no messages, no sign that there was anything I missed. My vision adjusts slowly. I stand on the front step, watching the rain drizzle down from the eaves. Cars shush on past. No one notices, and neither...
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I awake after sunset, and every little light feels like a fresh bruise against my eyes. I squint, I stagger, pulling drapes and flicking switches. No mail, no messages, no sign that there was anything I missed. My vision adjusts slowly. I stand on the front step, watching the rain drizzle down from the eaves. Cars shush on past. No one notices, and neither...
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the Holy Ghost moment
The heart skips all the least important beats while the head tries hard to keep heaven on its mind. Lips touch, sweat mingles, hands linger with-in the music of skin and fingers. There are moments of bliss, flickers of belief. The ecstatic and the carnal gather their plunder and lead the call, shudders and visions, spills and thrills and late arrivals....
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The heart skips all the least important beats while the head tries hard to keep heaven on its mind. Lips touch, sweat mingles, hands linger with-in the music of skin and fingers. There are moments of bliss, flickers of belief. The ecstatic and the carnal gather their plunder and lead the call, shudders and visions, spills and thrills and late arrivals....
Read More