Category: writing

imagined

it is not so easy
to cull away but
as leaves give
way to crimson
my autumn seems
to have come

unicorn chasing is 
stuff best done in the
springtime of youth

worn stone stairs lead
to mountaintops
cast in mists
cast in fogs

i always imagined
something more
than this

28 Jun 25

in your pale

seeking switches
to flip to the off
turn down the bed
tune out the head
let the phantoms
have their haunt

whisper the winds
my name as the same and
yours the forever unknown
and i don’t care
what you’re called
just haunt my halls
in your pale

27 Jun 25

become of long

given fresh rain fallen
a sanctuary in grey
wash away the stain

desire burns fleeting
quench all heat away
embrace river flowing

puddle rings watercolor
mirrors of granite sky
i become of long man
i become of long

27 Jun 25

tossing a rune — 27jun25
sowilo
```
the haze of frost
clouding vision
melts away —
casting sharper shadows
in the brightness of day
```
Another rune poem of mine, where the rune is selected at random.
Today’s rune is sowilo, which has a core meaning “sun”. The sun is representative of the source of life, illumination and power.
27 Jun 25

kissing over café bars

kissing over café bars
you wipe lipstick from
my lips with your thumb

leaning over
hungry for more
you chide and say
just a taste because
patience is important
even in the dream

27 Jun 25

enjoin me

a path in the middle of a dark forest — *Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash*

the troubles keep and
none of them mine
there is no time to cry

i step to oak & slender
the place within
i could dream all day &
all night in the within

flint, cuts skin, bone
to drag me of wood
spell some silence
for me, one who sees
enjoin me to whole

26 Jun 25

fade away

silting down thick
the layers me put
under the wave

quenching flame
give steel to rust
casting new

i rain i rain
i rain i rain
under granite
skies, i rain

keep me in
your memory
but then let me
fade away

26 Jun 25

seek no

settle to stone and
quit with the roam
seek no, seek no more

to take axe to axel
to stop up the ramble
seek no, seek no more

follow low water
flow dark home
seek no, seek no more

25 Jun 25

stormy passings wet

of crash the rainbows in
the undergrey at raining
with the undone angry
sitting thresholds linger

stormy passings wet
my granite sharp face
—in need of a shave might
the added phrase be—
yet, soon comes our clover

the clover carves thunder
in the laying down we

25 Jun 25

Fever
Photo by Brett Wharton on Unsplash
A fever of climbing, each foot thorned on ossified remains of the other selves of his, those forgotten parts laying wasteshattered on this hill of broken dreams.
Cut hands, his own slivered bones shredding flesh to ribbons as he crawls his pile of human debris. Sunlight at the center, high above, mocking. It is not obtainable, but he has his own Sisyphus path, and that path involves the play of light and shadow with his burden being self — something far more weighty than stone.
A blink away of bloodstained sweat, he looks away from the improbissble past placed there in the fore. There is no sense in entertaining goals. Goals imply a chance at success. Success brings hope. Hope? No.
Right arm right foot left arm left foot, shudderdream quakes and shakes, and involuntary scream. But still, he carries his leadself up, an empty skull of his staring from the hill. All the whispers shout encouragements, but he cannot remain still to gather them in.
25 Jun 25