Tags
A Brittle Wind…
15 Monday Jan 2018
Posted Experimental, Photography, Poetry
in15 Monday Jan 2018
Posted Experimental, Photography, Poetry
inTags
19 Thursday Oct 2017
Posted Photography, Poetry
inTags
Abstract, Black and White, Gloom, Ocean, Photography, Poetry, Sea, Storm
A hairnet of pink lightning
Flames across glum skies
Shadows saunter, charcoaling
The Sea’s velvet skin
October wind coos
Across ruffled iron peaks
The Brine percolates
Each heaving sigh beckoning
Violently out of place
Craggy Fool remains
Askew at the tide-line
Like a lazy sketch
His bulged back still aches
From last night’s dune-pillowed sleep
Nascent rain oozing
Down the minefield of his face
A lifetime of anomie
Stings in his shoulders
His nails chew through leather palms
His eyes cloud with Storm
He envies the clams
Where dungeons feel like Home
And little mole crabs
Soothed by every ruthless blow
Silent moments
Rarely come
Through the ocean thrum
From cinder plumes
Scavengers plunge
Ranting, brash and loud
04 Saturday Mar 2017
Posted Experimental, Poetry
inTags
She is spotted only
with a magnifying glass,
an animalcule
with limescaled wings
And a dusky face.
Clinging to
a breathing blade
of dancing
chloroplasts,
she sees
the fractals flash
in a fury of green-
the mosaics of her
shieling sea.
The dawn scatters
in a migraine of hues,
the aurific daal’mist
sibilant around this
unseen and muted thing.
Waiting to be flicked
by a snapping finger
of prairie wind,
she watches the world,
as listless as a carcass,
through a cage
of tangled light
and vying stems.
26 Wednesday Oct 2016
Posted Introspection, Photography, Poetry
inTags
Black and White, Fall, Floral, Florida, Hope, Introspection, Nature, Photography, Poetry
A humble path,
furry with
emerald moss
and splashed
in blue shadow.
A shiny-backed beetle
suns himself
on a cold
molar-sized stone,
then shuffles off
into a copper sea
of leaves.
So many
roving feet
traverse here.
A horse gallops by
bold and solid
his chestnut sides
heaving.
He is followed
by the stab
of deer hooves
swift in flight.
Now comes
my own restive shoe
hole-pocked
and pebble-filled
to bumble through.
Yet there you grow
tiny purple bloom
as if every crushing step
will always miss you.
01 Tuesday Mar 2016
Posted Experimental, Introspection, Video
inTags
Addiction, Black and White, Depression, Experimental, Florida, GIF, Grief, Introspection, Nature, Poetry, Prose, Video, Writing
(Some experimental refractions. Thank you for drizzling by.)
The clattering waves. The intractable sky. Mute again, with gloomy grey eyes. A bit of bone cuts into my thumb. A touch of wind whispers through decaying feathers. I do not remember the last thing I felt before the embalming.
Sometimes, Silence is reckless.
My mind is fossilized. As lively as the oldest stone. I lean back on the retracting cushion of Entropy, and gaze blankly toward the heavens. How dazzling is this thatch of scattering sparrows; how enchanting their dance of dewdrop shadows.
Thorny bliss is this mindlessness, oblique amongst the dried thistle and snapping bramble. I can vaguely hear it, somewhere wrapped in gauze; a little Life fizzing at the bottom of the quiet stream, beyond.
Like a mosquito, I insert a needle into it, now and then.
It is easy to forget the threat of a wave’s smooth caress, that its languorous massage of oblivion is still a form of erosion.
When I was a child, my favourite thing to draw was a noose.
He rang the other night. I could hear that his lips were cracked and bleeding. He wept and begged forgiveness, but I had never felt slighted to begin with. Yet, my response was blank-eyed silence. There was only the sound of the restive wind moaning through the eaves to answer for me.
How stealthy a foe is this stifling captor; like a cashmere cloud, its downy coolness yawned over me. Its strangeness seemed safe, nestled inside its gossamer embrace, bound in a world without senses or thought. I am far too gone to feel alarm, now.
Sometimes, love is just impotent rage that is a little too tired to bear its bulbous face.
What an obdurate knot Shame so deftly creates, twisting away, as the years smoothly slip by, pressure mounting against my spine.
Regaining a pulse requires resurfacing. To drag the bloated body from the turgid depths. To pry open its chalky eyes, exposing them to the bone light of the wild ocean sky, above. To kiss its mucid, slimy visage and blow through its cold stringy-white lips.
To let the cherry rivulets of pus and water drain from the self-inflicted punctures.
I do not know if I will dry out, chafe these wrists, and feel again. I despise the sound of my own voice, the rattle and scrape of my defunct brain and the trepid rasp of my rusty breath.
Sometimes, though, Silence can be much deadlier than the noose.
07 Friday Aug 2015
Posted Experimental, Photography, Poetry, Sea
inTags
Abstract, Beach, Black and White, Florida, Nature, Ocean, Photography, Poetry, Sea, Water
08 Monday Jun 2015
Posted Photography, Poetry, Quotations
in24 Tuesday Feb 2015
Posted Experimental, Photography, Sea, Video
in02 Tuesday Dec 2014
Posted Photography, Poetry
inTags
Birds, Black and White, Florida, Hiking, Mouse, Nature, Photography, Poetry, Storm, Tree
14 Sunday Sep 2014
Posted Photography, Poetry, Stories
inTags
Black and White, Change, Florida, Freedom, Humanity, Melancholy, Orlando, Photography, Poetry, Prison, Rain, Walking