Category Archives: Poetry

Deluge

It is both pleasure, and an epitaph to pleasure, at the same time. When the phenomena occurs and the colors run and slash and slit down upon me in ravels of deluge. Spring-green, shell-pink, sky-blue, bled-red, egg-heaven, grief-yellow. I, a … Continue reading

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Pour

So much light poured in, so much passive worth.

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Draft

There are no mirrors here, yet everywhere I see myself, a bated draft of furls, each bearing the right to exist, and respire ably.

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Godot Vs. God

In Godot’s waiting room, Heaven-rent, the vacancy sign had been converted into a living epitaph for people choking on bated breath: Here tomorrow, gone today.

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Sober Judge

Dylan Thomas falls from his barstool in Heaven— God, tending bar, picks him up, turns to Job—Who am I to judge?

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Missive

Flown, without feathers, an unrelenting missive engaging remote hints and near heaven

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Arc

It is the mouth birthing a blood-new kiss that begs gravity’s pardon and raises lips to an impossible arc.

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The Writing Life

Pen, referencing a glossary of soul, scratches out excess to clarify Eternity, finger-holds, tenuous at best, dignify the mount of a marvelously impossible task.

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White Bird

She, full of secret pines, shadow-limbed beneath a pale disc of winter sun, waltzing solo in snow-caked hills, blood-red quill tucked behind her left ear, just in case the urge to climb spires and trace spheres via a fierce run … Continue reading

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Winter Adagio

Nightwalk in a small town. Moonbleached adobe set against the snowglobular shakedown of flakes, as if dandruff from the itchy shaved scalp of God was falling, a phosphate rhapsody. Along the road, mudskinned snowdrifts, like albino coal-miners, crouching, or dispossessed … Continue reading

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