Monthly Archives: October 2020

The Way of the Fool

To marvel dumbly, and trespass, with a sense of the infinite backlighting a wink– this, the way of the Fool, or sacred is as sacred does, when trusting the air in its holy relationship to plunge.

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Film Treatment

Silence, within a dark empty theater, starring you on a blank screen.

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Calling

Beyond the slimmest margins, a paling, a cooling, where you can assume the role of engaged witness and translate intimacy into a remembered calling, a friend without want or ceiling.

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Birthing Pains

To see, everywhere, brave little lights going up, flares of hope and justice, holding hands to tip the scales in a bond of solidarity, a fire-chastened purge and desire for change’s holy golden grail, the quest, a blessed rhyme and … Continue reading

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At the Beckoning Edge

Sometimes, you’ve got to stand at the liminal edge, equal parts trespass and yield, your entire life a fragile ceremony of plunge and arc, respiring within spells of wonder.

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From Shards, a Cathedral

From the absolute hovel of unlettered ruins, a crabby shard, reflecting a tasseled badge of moonlight— this, the modest origins to ceremony and marvel, as she built an outlaw cathedral of self, in which she dwelled and worshipped, vagrantly hospitable … Continue reading

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Anthemic

Comfort is a privilege, yet kindness and dignity, charity and compassion, are spirit-given rights and blessings, the seeded marrow and initiative of our soul’s turnings toward unequivocal light.

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Arson & Grace

Collection of plays forthcoming from CSF Publishing. Arson & Grace Think of this collection as a black-market passport to a realm of lucid dreams and savage jest. Or as the splintered signpost to a crossroads where pop culture, mythology and … Continue reading

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Brave New World

We are the keepers of the sacred fire, the shapeshifters and purveyors of starstuff undivided, We, tending to flocks of light and clouds, understand that, come rain or come shine, the founting marvels from God’s lips, and breadth, are a … Continue reading

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Jean Rhys

You held the islands in your eyes, where it rained and rained and then the sun warmed wet to a wafting hiss. This Jean, you, the feline slink, filigreed shock, and sinewy comb of whitelaced waves ruffling upon puttied blobs … Continue reading

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