Bed of Bluebells
Poem I want to lie down in a bed of bluebells and forget all that needs to be forgotten. The wind follows the birds flying over meadows, hills, seas, skies and trees. I...
Image Curve Blog
A Blues Lament, A Requiem for U.S.
Stream of Consciousness Darwin’s nonsense is actualized in the Celtic-Anglo Americanized mind terminig non-whites ‘third worldly’ not first class humans, not made in their image under their gods of profit where the ends, the...
The Malevolent One — Part Four
Serial Fiction Story Joe followed his father down the beautiful white steps of the historic building, staggering his steps. A servant opened and closed the awaiting car door for them as they slid...
Out of Words … a Bunch of Coos
Poem About Existence 1. Words have fled this world, we’re still here as so music, partially at least. 2. There’s no point really, nihilism’s that rare drug, the people can’t use. 3. Pluto...
Grooming For Never (Never) Land
Poem Attempts; again and again To suck in the gut of atrophy You swear admittance will Ultimately rely on the twinkle In your eyes The one where … any attempt Foiling hardship or...
Breaking Through
Haibun Poem Tuesday evening zazen — not an “ease in” sore thighs and forearms burning, mid-spine vertebra numb legs all troubling thoughts from this morning so much crumbled dust no fresher feeling than recovery...
Closing Time
Short Poem Like magic it began a small thing As cells divided and became people Within these confines that were warm, welcoming, alive Lives that took on directions so separate from their conception...
To Friends Who Get Lost in the Woods
Poetry about Friends I know why you went in The shadows stained your skin like ink The grass was woven into a welcome mat It was easy to leave your folks behind The...
The Baker, The Butcher and The Brewer, Part Three – The Butcher 8
Serial Novel He decided to sleep with the idea and with his mother in law. Her painkillers infused panting and humming put his mind to rest. When she finally fell asleep he could...
Animal Dilemmas – Moth Scorpion
Short Story The Scorpion was firmly holding the dead insect in its claw and descended steadily into the darkness of the earth. It was very hungry so it halted several times to take a...
The Things They Tell Me
Poem They tell me to forget you That I’m wasting time on feeling who You are inside and appear aside From your bright, fluttering smiles They tell me waiting isn’t worth The return...
Giving My Life to Time
Poem rather the water blue to a cool breeze to refresh and undo to the sounds that appease rather be sailing where the air drifts freely exhaling in directions with new twists away...
