Author: michael raven

  • stone turning

    Image of a writing journal and a pencil.
    Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash
    this every stone turned
    hides another lie
    buried in permafrost
    look to the other
    find your heart within
    chase the chill away

  • Towards the Within — Í Tokuni

    Seeing as now that I have more time to actually get on with doing actual writing instead of kvetching about bugs in my commenting system, I plan to fall into a bit more of a rhythm with this series of posts. The current plan is to post the “Towards the Within” series of musical discoveries on Wednesdays and Saturdays each week.

    My current flavor of discovery is focused on trying to find international artists who record darkwave/coldwave/post-punk, or feel as if they might be inspired by that sound. As I listened, I started marking down bands and songs that caught my attention. I always have a handful other than my twice-weekly pick to choose from to write about. Lucky for me, I have been managing to find standout songs new to me that grab me and so that I give it a good couple of listens.

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  • dawn

    back against metal
    frost skin bruised
    waiting for the sun

    concrete chipped cuts
    those nylon nerves 
    screaming for the sun

    i love you like
    you don't love me while
    dawning before the sun

  • adrift

    Image of a writing journal and a pencil.
    Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash
    flood homes we float
    from staircase to stair
    debris seeking alone

    adrift, scattered words
    waterstained india black
    flowing as souls do wet

    hands our fingers bite
    sending words awry
    breaking fountains
         feathered

    washing stone

  • Repost from sceadugenga.com

    Part reminder that I have moved to the new site here, part flash fiction, I posted this over at sceadugenga this morning. I’m reposting the flash fiction section here in case you have already changed your followed site to this one and removed the old site. If you read it at the old site, you won’t find much of anything new here unless I end up mucking about and start playing editor. I hadn’t intended to write flash fiction when I started the post at the old site, but that’s how it ended up.

    If you haven’t already noticed, the lights have gone up and the bartender is calling “last call” to make you get the message, as if the ambiance change was not indication enough.

    “Last call! Last call!”

    Someone nudges you and you look down at the resident drunk, Louie. “Hey man, can you buy me a drink, I’ll pay you back nex–“

    “Last call!”

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