Tag: blogging
-
Regarding Norway / пічка
She found life in the petals of a dying rose. Her iridescent eyes caught wind from the Northern corners of granulated suburbs and empty fields. A marigold heart that chose to beat for those who left theirs in a shadowed past not unlike her own. With her she carries the wealth of the river, etching […]
-
Desert
Conceived to dust! the fleet angel yells, you buried my trust in a hand-written sonnet Eastern promises mild enough to keep me wandering, yet left me dry, lapping at the river of dilapidated structures you called home Print by Hiroshi Hamaya Snow Land
-
Ecce Homō
Peering through the masses clad in flesh and wine the seeking young men forged paths among those who cursed the day. Pillars of salt perched among those who had not yet feared the wrath of temporality. He who had purged his heart of tenderness. Red, deep blue, ivory, and glistening black. Blissful peace exhumed from […]
-
-‘ Somber
oh forgive me in time for your matrona son is still teething on blessings, forgotten cracked ceilings of the church where I prayed for my health – – –
-
álas Blood, –
Humanity purged by a lack of belief Through gnashing red wine and the grinding of teeth Drunkards assailed by the conflict of wheat Their mothers who kissed salt blood from his feet Comparing the oil on the fringe of her shawl A proportionate sin for the sons of the fall The march of god-men past […]
-
Vitals
Life was on the edge of its seat waiting for a broken convention. To be capsized again in an eternal depth of floating freedoms. Sinking further into the abyss of my vitals. Mary strung sequins of a life not yet lived. I will go sailing. Gone are the notebooks of seasons won and here I […]
-
Unbridled
The belting harmony of gradually building strings layered in practice and ill-composed restraint. A leader, a follower, and the muse. Gentle at the arrival of fresh blood yet an awakened power of infinite depth. Crushing foam leaving remnants of the air she kissed. An unfeeling balanced and emotional maelstrom of activity with unbridled grace. It […]
-
The Møring Queen
The last prophet etched lines in the sand. Her mellifera axiom. All about her is quiet in the garden where she lay. At the sound of her mournful strung beating heart the Prince of Normandy hazards a doubt. The frailty he long wished to know exposed before him in the flight of a righteous rain; a […]
TUMULTUARY 