• unthinking

    michael raven

    I am not thinking what you think that I am thinking and that is a fact. I bundle my thinks up nice and tight, in thick, oiled leather and lacing and push them bone deep inside. No one has asked because there are none who might care, not really, about what goes on tucked up in there.

    The truth is scrimshawed along my bones, inked in ashes and kohl, under atrophied muscles wrought tangled by scars. I sing to stones and prophets, fill the undersides of my nails with soil, paint stains on my forehead, circles on brow.

    “What are you thinking?” they ask.

    See, finally someone sees truth as I howl in the nights, at bogarts with thorns and ghasts that prick with memories. I rend my chest with fingers and unfulfilled promises made when someone still has something to gain. But—

    I am not thinking what you think I am thinking.

    And that is a fact.

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  • waiting at

    michael raven 

    careful as silk
    drift rise on breeze
    carry our befores
    gifted back to me
    this happy death
    waiting a' sea

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  • of unbelonging

    michael raven 

    i am of unbelonging
    —it is known.

    a grotesquerie on display
    twist-tangled my limbs
    a-jumbled this brain which
    says the wrong things
    most times and again

    a shambling horror
    at the threshold outside
    creeping and crawling
    begging to be let inside

    throw the bolt and
    lock the latches
    set steel to stone
    to sharpen your axes

    dim the shadows
    when given to dawn
    safe one more night
    from an unbelonging
    of which i am known

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  • Reunion

    michael raven

    Participating in Jolene’s (Chico’s Mom) prompts where the only real rule is that you can’t kill off the main character. Oh, and use the four prompts provided:

    1. not so Good Samaritan
    2. vampire
    3. reunited
    4. pills

    Here is my humble offering below.

    Vladimir opened the heavy wooden door on the third knock, as though he’d been expecting this all along. Which, of course, he had been — for eleven years.

    “Aldric.” With warmth, arms outstretched. That slight lisp that came with elongated canines. “Come in, come in. You’ll catch your death.”

    (more…)

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  • Gimme Some Truth (cover) | The Wonder Stuff

    michael raven

    “I’m not a Beatles fan, but I am a John Lennon fan.”

    I'm sick to death of seeing things
    From tight-lipped, condescending,
    mama's little chauvinists
    All I want is the truth
    Just give me some truth, now

    I've had enough of watching scenes
    With schizophrenic, egocentric,
    paranoiac, prima-donnas
    All I want is the truth, now
    Just gimme me some truth

    No short-haired, yellow-bellied,
    son of Tricky Dicky
    Is going to Mother Hubbard soft soap me
    With just a pocketful of hope
    Money for dope
    Money for rope

    Amazing, isn’t it, how topical this song is 50 years later?

    Stuffies doing their cover of the Lennon song.

    That song was always a blast to busk in downtown Minneapolis around 1989.

    Did I mention I occasionally did “air guitar performances” while singing (sic) with an empty guitar case? I took great efforts to carefully put the “guitar” back into the case when I was done with my performance.

    Okay, singing was probably a bit strong of a word to use here. You get the idear tho’, right?

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  • Hei, skogkatter • 29jun26

    michael raven

    If I have a wee bit of advice to breeders of any type of pet, it is:

    There is no such thing as too many photos for the expectant family.

    For some weirdos like me, there is no such thing as too much data either — although I have done a very good job of not asking anyone to fulfill my weird data desires/needs (weights, measurements, food types and sources).

    We finally got on the radar and received some new pictures of the boys (a bit blurry when they are in motion because of the phone’s camera and lighting quality).

    (more…)

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  • All that remain

    michael raven

    There are times that there is only empty. You could not understand.

    Everything ash. Everything dust. You could not understand.

    I am weary of silence, but there is no mouth with which to speak to the missing ears which could never hear. You could not understand.

    Rivers run my blood in tears from void for eyes, screaming blind. You could not understand.

    This is a limbo, something you could never understand.

    Piercing pinions stretched for all the night. You could not understand.

    That I miss your lips and their wine… You could not understand.

    Ribbons are all that remain.

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  • Zombie Love | Morticia

    michael raven 

    We can live for eternity
    We can live for eternity tonight

    Dress of black, face of white
    Lips of red, what a frightening sight
    Are you ready to try zombie love?
    Zombie love

    Back in the peak of my 80s “goth” phase, there was an admission I was willing to make — should anyone ask or care to enquire. It was no grand secret:

    I did not think that the subculture should be taken too terribly serious.

    (more…)

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  • ashen

    michael raven 

    we wore our hearts
       in sticker on
          polyester sleeve
    while whale bone
       held us to north
          and nightfall

             — waiting
    for ghost-trees
       to give over and
          bring blood home
    cellophane crackling
       under our feet of
          cruel winters

    ashen, for that is
       how we lost our
          home

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  • steel skies stolen

    michael raven 

    there are days
    i wish it would just
    rain & rain & rain
    wash everything away
    down the drains &
    carry us to a place
    where we could
    finally meet again
    you could say, “hey” &
    i could say, “hi” &
    though we’ve never met
    we could be friends
    or maybe lovers
    like we were before
    we fell out of dream

    our steel skies stolen,
    some days
    i wish it would just
    rain.

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