Posts
-
Ornamental Angles
My soul is depreciating. I folded myself into complex origami, gothic arches and bowties and little paper snowflakes, but the creases are starting to tear. -
Tree Blood
A tree has blood, thick blood that fills its cold fractals with slow warmth. We watch the rain fall. And tenderly, I brush the water from my eyes. -
Demiurge
There is a demiurge living in my belly.
I giggle until spring violates the Earth's cold corpse.
The brash moon waits for us to curl our eyelashes and unfurl our hips.
I flamenco with a woman in my throat. -
From Flame
I walk downhill, through the rain and towards the sea. -
Swans
I could feel the burning contrast of continuance, the delicate flock-like dance of a hundred thousand moments distilled into a single impression that shifted with the passage of time and glowed with the curves and subtle vestiges of its previous shap -
The Moth
It’s past midnight.
The rain drips,
resigned to the passing moon.
An ancient hymnal
of old stone
and old stars,
plays in my ears.
Lamp light
And
Loves
-
-
Autumn's Harvest
As the years go by,
the seasons may become a blur,
but late in the evenings of autumn,
you’ll hear the wind start to sigh.
-
The Words my Mother Gave Me
I wrote a poem today, but I don't think anyone will ever see it
I wrote it using nothing
-
A Pablo Neruda Quote
“Qué será mi pobre patria oscura?”
“What will become of my poor, dark country?” - from “Insomnia” by Pablo Neruda
-
Philosophies In Third Person
She began to realize that thinking thoughts in your head was fairly different than writing them down.
-
Nature's Colorful Farewell
Amidst trees ablaze in fiery hues,
Autumn's touch, a painter's muse.
Leaves, like whispers, gently descend,
In nature's waltz, a timeless trend.
