Tag Archives: Poetry

Narcissus: a Haiku Break-Up

It’s not really me, but more, well, I suppose you: nothing personal. Advertisements

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Silent Night

The ongoing rabble and cinematic narrative in my mind is finding how nourishing and full and tender the heart can grow steeped in silence alone.  

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Wellspring

Through the grace of repetition, the writing life grounded in the slow, wistful measures of wellspring’s fortune.

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Backroads

Traveling mapless backroads, I found heaven looking for me.

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Ashes to Ashes

Out of the ash-heap, she imagined something new would emerge, but when the wind blew and scattered the ashes to reveal nothing but scorch-marks upon scarred earth, she understood, with a great sense of loss, that form followed function only … Continue reading

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Cup

The simpling of the heart as it pours fast light into a rimless cup.

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Savor

I was young, fevered and full of hope. My heart, green in its country, desired to push lightning through blooms, to cherish brightly in a thousand different directions at once. It was and always has been about rounding dreams from … Continue reading

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Porchlight

The porchlight in one’s personal heaven is always on, solace through staid aureole for orphans wandering heartsick in the dark.  

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The Argument

Reality and me have disagreements all the time. Reality is, by nature, inviolable. And a bit of an existential bully. I am, by illicit union, a child of fiction. And tender in the center. Reality and me don’t always see … Continue reading

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Yes

The tenderest means to a true center is through loss accepted gracefully and yes praised.

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