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Monthly Archives: February 2013
……. We are tumbled rebels, held together with ink and string. We hold sacred things in trembled hands. We are masters of no universe, dispersed and well versed, quill-dipped and dis -stilled, willed for more than parchment and pain. We … Continue reading
…. So sing me a blue note, a merciless new note, a light exceeding -ly complex and unfathomably intricate. Hold it loose until it collects its own concentrated sealed magics and lines them up one by one in a distinct … Continue reading
…………. We were no more than pranksters, really; naïve tribalistic summer of love rebels embraced in a series of magic mushroom moral panics and myriad forms of self (inflicted) aware -ness. We arose the jive, beatnik balance of up -beat … Continue reading
(a descending Fib) … She sings and flings and remembers lost wonderings and spreads her wings again. Only then does she remember that what goes up must come down. …
….. Attack the day and play with all the pretty words scents senses flowers. Spend hours weaving something fragrant in your hair (posies are nice, but prose will suffice). Shake your …….(bootie) head and rub your tum. Then lie back, … Continue reading
…. Give me a chance to sing and I will hold these wings at bay, collect your shiny pieces and someday and weave us home. We’ll let gravity do its bidding, ridding ourselves of both feather and flame, tame these … Continue reading
….. Ommmmm. Ommmmm. I am too tired to write a poemmmmm. Ommmmm. Ommmmm. A single phrase feels like a tommmmme. Ommmmm. Ommmmm. My rhythms have no oomph to roammmmm. Ommmmm. Ommmmm. The keyboard’s here, the muse ain’t hommmmme. …..