Category: poetry

  • empty halls

    Photo by Nicole Elliott on Unsplash
    i wraith empty halls
    where you cannot
    see me even if
    i tried

    outside, a mournful owl
    rages at the moon
    his love lost
    to this endless sea

  • betweening

    Photo by Dana on Unsplash
    longing's curse,
    a burden without end
    between languish & lassitude
    memories to ribbon remains
    between lovers & friends

  • antlers stand silent

    Photo by Tengis Galamez on Unsplash
    my hands carry scenes
    from a different winter
    stiff with memories
    yet to come

    blood crust blades the snow
    windswept carved the land
    why only the never?
    antlers stand silent of stone

  • maple seeds

    Photo by Cornelia Munteanu on Unsplash
    like any fool
    i remain clueless
    watching maple seeds
    helicopter from
    sky to grass
    wondering if,
    like unspoken words,
    they have any
    intent

  • all grey the ravens

    Photo by pedram ahmadi on Unsplash
    tonight i might try
    dancing barefoot
    spinning & yearning
    for a dark angel dreaming
    with that mark of moth
    bare shoulder worn
    just to see her smile

    all grey the ravens
    under the trysting moon

  • darksky grey

    Photo by Kevin Hessey on Unsplash
    darksky grey a’coming
    rumble her clouded head
    sparks sent across
    flint on steel in bed
    twisting her sheets
    around bare calf & thigh
    darksky grey a’coming
    through her evernight

  • red

    Photo by Andreas Haslinger on Unsplash
    we live these falling red leaves
    on the wind turning & spin
    dancing, you ask for help on dying

    i have only these sundried bone
    to your blade glancing moonlight
    no, your night i cannot surrender

    a shower in crisp scarlet skitters
    i lay down these ossified arms
    waiting for the thrust and pierce

  • ritual hours

    Photo by Sina Bakhtiari on Unsplash
    ever thorn head burning
    one step in the without
    dancing in my devils
    twist my spaces thin

    knuckle bark to bone
    raw red and stone
    under covers counting
    hours writhe of poem

  • flowers

    i wonder at crimson pools
    of my blood i have spilled —
    when will come the bloom?

  • dreaming house

    Photo by Massimiliano Sarno on Unsplash
    what ghosts this dreaming house
    sleepwalking our sleep?
    trysting our sweat-damp sheets?
    giving hallow our hearth in creep?

    pale her flesh, her hair raven flow
    barefoot slipping through
    eyes open to ever unawake
    passing of room to room

    gazing out to lune and hedge
    through windows stained of dust
    would we to kiss her lips
    in that dreaming house of rust