Posts
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τό καλόν, τό ἀληθές, τό ἀγαθόν (Transedentals)
The woman wears her skin
like a bathrobe.
She stands in the middle
of a golden field,
weeping fresh water.
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The Storm's Eye
The sky
blows in more snow,
a breath
from frozen elsewhere.
There is a storm
raging
inside the silent rage
of the storm,
inside God’s eye,
unopened.
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Cubism
‘"With your pictures you apparently want to arouse in us a feeling of having to swallow rope or drink kerosene.”
– Braque to Picasso
Maybe it’s as simple as this:
Maybe God’s hundredth name is His face. -
At the Altar
Oh Lord of Windows,
Oh Window,
Oh Mirror with Drawn Curtains,
maybe if I keep tapping,
keep drumming my fingers on your altar,
you’ll wake up. Maybe -
The Farmer's Market
my uncle grabbed a bag
of fiddleheads,
tender beginnings,
at the farmer’s market,
said he was going
to fry them
with honey, pink-
peppercorn, and salt.
the farmers bring dirt -
Mixed Metaphors Chapter 1
A light mist was pouring in off the Caspian sea. I closed my click, sighing into the dark as I pulled on a yellow, wide-legged, vinyl jumpsuit.
Loves
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A Fork In The Road
When you see a fork in the road what do you do? Go left? Go right? Or ruin the story by standing there and thinking about which way to go then turning around and going home?
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The Sun
The warm vibrant sun,
Out to bring more fun,
Heating the earth and its people with warmth,
And the previous cold is not mourned.
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His Majesty
I stand there, wind knocked out of me.
In front of me: his majesty.
Quickly I bow as not to anger,
And the king raises his hand to keep order.
The room falls silent,
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I Miss a Place That Doesn't Exist
For a long time
I'd have vivid dreams,
bursts of REM that gave me the illusive bliss
of being wherever
and the closest return
to the mind of a child
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The To-Do List of a Rising Senior
- email admissions counselor
- make common app account
- july 8 AP scores
- learn after effects
- saturday lead tiger class
- 10 assignment/wk gov; 6 assignment/wk econ
- pick up hospital badge and parking pa
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migration
i, like many poets, have wondered a million times what it would be like to be a bird: soaring high above the trees, unburdened by life's banal worries. something primal and free.