Stranger in a Strange Land

I walked the steps that Aramais built,His bones settling still in the dampness of the dream.My mouth was hidden in dry wrappings of the dead,For the shroud hid that which Unspoken covet so.In my hands I carried the only weapons permitted,The pen and book,For those like me,Chroniclers from the Skin of the World,We avoid the … Continue reading Stranger in a Strange Land →

midland autumn rains

Midland autumn rains,Morning mists growing colder,Summer passes on. Piano keys creak,Old hands struggle with placement,But still, it sounds good. Passing strangers smile,Lives meeting in the stairwell,Never again seen. The scarf on the hook,Made with love by an old 'friend',Still smells of perfume. The painter's wet cheeks,Just enough to thin old paint,Now, let's start again.

The Coffee Blues

Morning coffee blues,Cold cream in steaming darkness,A pinch to wake me. The barista's weary smile,All business, a pro,Small talk is for the depraved,Or those lonely fools,Who mistake a smile for love,And chase their coffee,With pitiful fantasy.A rhythm so smooth,His exhausted nonchalance,Just goes with the beat. This one's a to-go,For this weary vinyl,Is worn out enough.

crack on the glass

The crack on the glass, Catch upon yearning lips, Blood mingles with tea.

First to Move, Lost.

She raised up her chin, As though to balance Her precious fingers, In thoughtful contemplation. He leaned in to kiss The edge of her thoughts, But was justly stopped, By the frown upon her lips. So two did they sit, A duet so filled With wary silence Of the bone-deep awareness, That the first to … Continue reading First to Move, Lost. →

Hold up your hands

Hold up your hands,Stained with pale fire,Until hot dreams ofBright futures grow dim,Cooling against your sighs,Softening like your soul,Trickling through your fingers,As dried streams ofHope haunts unfettered children -These phantoms drawn inAsh falling like snow. Prompt: from the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, “Ash” as part of their Quadrille Night.

Pity the Soothsayers

I hate the idea that one's life is pre-ordained.To think that your suffering is expected.Some say it's all "God's Design,"But that's not fair to me,Or to the palm reader,Who sees the lines,And sighs.

autumnal breeze

Yellow leaves scatter, Red upon the chilled river, Smoky autumn winds. A whirling dervish, Splattered in colours of fall, Recall our old gods. Well-worn mountain paths, Glimmering like arteries, Bright with fallen leaves. Blue smoke drifts upward,While damp leaves of yellow-red,Fall upon my head. An autumnal breeze,Smelling like sweet potatoes,Ah, am I hungry?

Damn all of you

Damn all of you who told me to forget,As though I could somehow throw it away,These fucking memories of a phantom girl,Whose love crippled me and left me mad,Whose softest touch meant more to me,Transmitted through words on a screen,Or through the haze of an old flip-phone,Than every desperate, sticky fumbling,Every pulsing moan and lovely … Continue reading Damn all of you →

Worry, Worry

It has been some time,Since I've had the time to write,Now I feel hurried. Frantic as I post,These feelings wrapped in my soul,Clinging, grasping hands. Released, I'm relieved,But tension crawls in my scars,A depth unfulfilled. I may lose myself,In these intemperate years,Devoid of feelings. I just want to cry,But I worry I've lost it,That part … Continue reading Worry, Worry →