Monthly Archives: January 2015
.. Woke up to crying sky. Do I join her? Or dance in her the swirling tiers of her silver skirt? Can’t hurt. ..
… Do I hear a dollar? Just give me a holler and a crisp green George… What’s that? You’re broke? Down on your luck? Well, if you’ve got no buck, per -haps a quarter? Ah, I see. The cupboard’s bare. … Continue reading
Photo Credits: Kylli Sparre . Tether her to the sea with her own jade(d) heart, a flowed quiet start, a startled sway. Give her a week, an hour, a day to hold her breath and taste the salt that … Continue reading
… Give me a body of water, a drizzle of stars, a jaw -dropped wonder and fireflies in jars. Give me a reckless abandon, a sweet surrender, a blind -ing bender of laughter and quiet rain. Give me a pride … Continue reading
in this lonely voice ……………hardly heard, raging waters had built their dwellings with tiny shingled stones. the wind received his name, the thrown Storm far above, drawn ashore. high rocks remain lying. ..
. Maybe if we aim our breaths just right, tame the trite and e(r)ase the mind, the miles will melt, the map will chime; our words will scorch this barren land in spirit and spell and sign. . Wordled. … Continue reading
… is slightly used, a little bruised around the edges. It’s been caged, enraged by storm and same and sigh -lence. It’s known violence and violins, violet sunsets and vibrant rain. It’s been with -held, treated like crap, sold for … Continue reading
… is slate, stone cold and strange and waiting. We line up our empty boxes and squares and dashes, awaiting flashes of brilliance, beauty, duty. We wish upon broken stars, and hold our breaths for that moment when everything falls … Continue reading
… The day has lost its polish, all bark and bile and bite and pile of dirty laundry. The camera gives us one last valuable chance to over -saturate our former selves, give sensibility and texture to these breaths. Mean … Continue reading