I contend with this heavy sorrow this unrepentant thief of mine which rolls in sea-like billows upon the shores of sacred mind; it devours the threads of reason embittered by trifles and cursed lies and mocks the grief of happier days for which my soul would pine; so, I vagabond through ennui and despair to …
wotd. i
Prelude The night was pitch black, so dark that it seemed as if trying to seep into the candlelit room through the window, bleeding from behind the heavy crimson drapes to eat away at the edges of the velvet. That was the first sight that came into view, blinked into focus by a woman who …
a writer’s desk
A page barren of thought I could but hardly say, the lantern's wick has hardened the crowd is gone away shivering leaflets fallen on frozen beds of hay ideas congealed in bottled ink I stand before the fray— of cold, plagerized pages in 21st century gray of renditions and other nonsense that shall never see …
january 1st, 2024
Years ago, I stumbled across a blog called Nostalgia on 9th Avenue. Back then, I was attempting the quite impossible task of teaching myself Japanese, and while it was admirable, painting the sweaty attrition of my summer days with the black strokes of kanji, orderly, tilted just so, I learned barely a fraction of the …
october sky
October will be my spring held aloft in the soft pine needles of the stratus cloud placid waters a gelid graveyard, stagnant waiting "Be still, don't try harder," the adage whispers; I breathe. Sometimes, one can see his reflection on the surface beneath the periwinkle sun he contemplates the thought of drowning believes he must, …
three legs in the evening
it has to be natural the neatness, predilect and routine grocery lists, in business casual casually. as hair ages to its winter it must ought to happen biologically. but i have to wonder if wonder is the causalty. must it always be? do sunsets extinguish curiosity? will age consume the dreams within me? are riddles …
ode to a little star
as though waves washing back from obsidian shores the clouds reveal you i hear their hastening upon the wind. i know what you are, now; and yet, the twirling galaxy in my chest this interstellar gravitas plucks the awe in me like sea stars dusts my dreams with pearls. june 28, 2022. 10:08pm.
dearly beloved
A gentle melody that nudges— awakens, a memory it wasn’t love then, not yet just a noncommittal thought that you would always be there. The tune was dusty, metallic a music box phantom from somewhere the ashes of ashes vibrating soft melancholy of a forgotten matter of fact. to the unconditional love between a child …
untitled ii.
brick clouds, satin sky french thunder rumbles in jazz tears of the bayou. French Quarter, New Orleans, 10:37am.
untitled i.
Scent of coming rain whispers beneath the oak tree I await its tale. Jakuren Hōshi, 87
The-Bleu-Bivouac 