Posts
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A Moon-Eating Resplendent-Goddess Lizard-Woman
I fall back onto my silk pillows and open my mouth to the moon. I swallow the hard light like it is chewable. -
Frequency
The sun is under a lot of pressure. 3.84 trillion psi at its core. Hot enough, free enough, to compose wild-eyed symphonies. -
Silk Cities
I build cities from dancing ribbons,
breathing wind into the tiles of recollection and imagination:
cold bricks, warm clay, wet lips.
I want to be Marco Polo, -
Acid
Lactic:
ingrown passion. rotting flowers. sweating like a clinomaniac. sweet, sweeter, sweetest, sour. I want the sky to fall.
remember the pickle jars.
I left them on the windowsill. -
Complementary Light
We carry complementary lamps:
Stars and Christmas and Pastel-Sun.
A little light is a glorious thing,
like the fleeting harmony of footsteps.
The sun sets at four; and we remember our candles, -
The Monastery
“Tedam! What should I do when I find a snail in my flowers?” I asked, holding up the small creature for his inspection.
Loves
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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.
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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
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A Pablo Neruda Quote
“Qué será mi pobre patria oscura?”
“What will become of my poor, dark country?” - from “Insomnia” by Pablo Neruda
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Philosophies In Third Person
She began to realize that thinking thoughts in your head was fairly different than writing them down.
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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.
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Til the Storm Passes
Wind
roars through the valley,
the leaves cling to their trees,
holding on for dear life.
But the wind is too strong,
and soon they are lost to the storm.
Rain pelts anything reachable,