our time is on the clock room cast in dramatic shadow like pieces of renaissance oil and canvas we wattled ideas from unread books; through gluttonous rage— we burned the dustjacket of history and knowledge to examine the brittle research of the Orwellian dilettante . presupposed, of course, being within Overton's Window and once necessary …
doldrums (n.)
a strained melisma teetering within the mind the overture of a waking dream that arouses nothing. it's rhythmic, faint less than static a tumbleweed which strikes cliches and old whispers into numbing thought twf.
the road
In days of despair I remember the promise of rest on an eternal shore; so I put on my shoes and pluck dust from my tattered cloak. I go forward one last time once more, and again. twf.
mountains of Arafat
I've never read The Davinci Code though I understand its appeal; often, we like to imagine things are not as we've been told even as we prefer to understand them as we've always understood. But I must caution, of the pursuit of truth in lies of those things that have always been (quietly) understood not …
noc. iii
The Past Their soldiers had set up a tent for the knights just on the outskirts of the crumbling village. Malikai followed after Lawrence in the direction of their temporary quarters, keeping her head tilted towards the ground as she stepped over the remains of southern soldiers, abandoned swords and helmets. Not an unfamiliar sight, …
noc. ii
The Past Malikai felt a spot of wetness on her cheek, which she wiped away unconsciously. When she pulled her hand back she saw that the tips of her fingers were smudged with blood. The battle had ended. A fire blazed nearby where the last of the southern brigade had fortified themselves inside a general …
Mother Goose
A neat, quadratic canvas of emerald turf a littler off center, at autumn's eve lies no garden of silver bells gentle English sensibility; rather ancient oak trees, Spanish moss sagging all engineered into perfect, Machiavellian rows. Mary, Mary, quite contrary. written in Forsyth Park, 11 Sep, ~5:37pm.
pool side
There was once a time that I wanted an inground pool. Not the silly floating abomination which was a large plastic tub and the epitome of disguised poverty in the 90s, rather a lunchables and snack packs kind of pool made for kings (and queens) who sat poolside in floaties because we could hardly swim; …
wotd. iii
The Beginning of It All Amelia lifted her leg and struck the side of Jackson's foot with her boot, having found him exactly where she thought he'd be. The stable whistled with modest sound, as the horses snorted in their sleep despite the daylight, having long grown used to the schedule of their owners. Jackson …
wotd. ii
The Beginning of It All "Enter." As always, the air in the study was damp. She could feel it cling to her, a prickling coolness that settled darkly on her uniform and skin. It was a quiet enclosure, small. There was nothing more than an aged map, its leather curling at its sides, resting upon …
The-Bleu-Bivouac 