-
CYCLES
The Royal Poinciana is in full bloom, its brilliant flame has led the sun to take jealous refuge in the clouds but we know not to be complacent. Mother nature it is said, and we are loathe to argue, can be at times the most fickle of bitches and we suspect that it will not…
-
WORDS, WORDS, WORDS
The room is awash in words, they pile up in corners, form untidy stacks that perpetually threaten collapse, strewing consonants like shards of ill broken glass. It might not be this way, for words need order, a rubric in which they are forced to operate. But here, in a room of poets, anarchy is the…
-
NIGHT ARRIVES
When we finally allow night to settle in around us, and we curl together in anticipation of sleep, we fit comfortably, but with no less passion than when we first did this, but a passion tempered by less need for flame, more for warmth and a gentle caress. We could not have anticipated this, and…
-
DEFIANCE
The stone defies the flame, drawing it in unyielding, until it is licked by the snow of winter The page defies the words, denying them purchase, they are flat without eyes to see them the repose unbroken The barren earth defies the king who orders it fertile as sand swirls engulfing the palace tearing at its…
-
MUSHOTOKU
We spend far too much time clinging to what was as the flames fade, and far too little time feeding the fire and grasping what can be, what is.
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 