Category Archives: Writing

Down

And when they cried down into the waters like a wild treetop spectre and the thick running currents of their souls flowed out wet and snakey into the black I wanted to crawl under them and breathe them until after … Continue reading

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IV

I think I see you sometimes like a dream; fading through dissipating skeins Of consciousness with that trembling terrible mortal gleam, quavering lingeringly – Like miles of last receding rays at dusk scurrying back over long darkling seas and planes. … Continue reading

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III

Sinister and barren is this place at this hour; The long road side-pathways Lit by a descending rush-hour twilight and the Humming rhythmical passing lights of cars. Low hanging trees, predictable pavement and the doorstep again. Well furnished and lit … Continue reading

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II

I was swaddled in your arms when the high Watery ocean engulfed me. I was drowning Beneath fading speckled stars when the Water swathed chokingly upon us: heavy, mighty, Immeasurably huge and surprising like the fallen sky, While we were … Continue reading

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A String of Story

I am a figment of my own imagination. I walk through my days in a seemingly temporally static haze, surrounded by a reality I can’t take seriously. Nothing is surprising or remarkable but like some strange fictitious movie whose lines … Continue reading

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The Wanderer’s Lament

Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing? Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing? Where is … Continue reading

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The Grove

Stay with me. Plant our soles anywhere, anywhere, And you are the one who is raising me, keeping me. Stay with me through dark fiendish foliage blocked roads Running on, and through wickedly biting winds blowing strongly For you are … Continue reading

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The Cricket Song

We walked along rims of long and dissipating fields,
 Wide bleary eyes straining for something to emerge,
 Something else to loom from the dim groggy mist 
And imagining shapes as we sat on the verge,  
And in silence as wild … Continue reading

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Gravity

“Fat people, Are all near the Equator.” you say. “It’s a scientific Fact”, you say. “Consequentially: My new, Evidentially Supported diet. I will only eat three times every week, And I will live in Antarctica.”

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Wind Fences

Days moved on in muggy swathes, Cool grey they draped the morning’s shoulders And hung in reminiscent skeins; Their sharp cold damp felt on your face Which can’t see past or much ahead The dusty grass and crooked fence. Do … Continue reading

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