Candy Star

Betwixt strands of her colored hair - Red for passion, devil-may-care; Blue of a cool, frivolous air - Frames eyes of a burnished gold, bared, Staring, daring, Only to laugh, then, disappear.

Philosopher, Reborn

A fly in the library, Gorges itself with ancient wisdom, And dies within the day.

Staring at the Cut

I stared at the bloody cut between my body and soul -It is not a physical sort of pain,This doomed wound,It is the absence of being, the gap between, a hole,Wound soundly around,The very concept of what makes you whole. Prompt: from the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, “Wound” as part of their Quadrille … Continue reading Staring at the Cut →

Hell is a Home for Some

Hell is surprisingly easy to stumble into,It takes a moment, a misstep, a mistaken leap,And then you fall, fall into a spiritual abyss,Obliterating your body into shattered bits,Like a glass that bleeds and cries. Hell takes an eternity to navigate,The paths are crooked until you take them,Though the path to hell is a straight line,While … Continue reading Hell is a Home for Some →

Before Regret was Summoned

We had committed the ultimate sin,That friends could commit to:With fingers and limbs entwined,A shared breath births rhapsody,Our high is an untold oblivion,Where thoughts go to die,And regret, not yet summoned,Is like a distant horizon,While the sea between is the sigh,Of blissful contentment and lust,And the cold reproach of the moon,Is just a mirror from … Continue reading Before Regret was Summoned →

Maybe it Will Grow

Sadness is a thing you carry,So you can pluck it from your breast,And plant it in the earth.Shed a single tear more,To feed the seed,And maybe, maybe,It will grow,Into something of worth,Or at least worth loving. Prompt: from the kind writers over at the pub, dVerse, "Seed" as part of their Quadrille Series (#127)

Remnants of Old, Shattered Pride

The wind from the open window,Is cool against my feverish face,My legs fold against my aching chest,As bruised arms hug my knees tight,Time slows to a crawl, my mind is hollow,Empty but for the remnants of old, shattered pride,So thinking, my eyes linger too long on a phone discarded. When will the response come?And will … Continue reading Remnants of Old, Shattered Pride →

Remains of Mountain Stairs

Beneath the mossy turf of maple shades, Lie the remains of mountain stairs, Dark stone dragged from barbarian shores, An offering of fealty, Honored by a century's duty, But now, having earned its repose, It sleeps and dreams of thundering feet... ... Of a country at war, and blood, The blood of warrior-monks chanting, Those … Continue reading Remains of Mountain Stairs →

My First

My first cigarette was shared between beautiful smiles,The indirect kiss as smoke slid hot through the filter,Escaping my throat in faint blue tinted with sunlight. I'd cough, she'd laugh, and then kiss me so deeply,The taste of that smoke was like heady myrrh,Lingering even today, many years since I have quit the habit, God, I … Continue reading My First →

Crossing the Threshold

The doctor's opinion was cruel at best, It seems years of stress cannot be reversed by rest, So maybe it's true what they say about art, About how every work takes a piece of your heart, Although in this case it took from her arm, Up to the threshold of "irreversible harm," She reflects on … Continue reading Crossing the Threshold →