having gone to drift
through silt grit flowing
and glaring being strange
on whenever the wind goes
left at the car burning low
under a stormfront rumble
the first fat raintears at
the mourn's thin passing
at cigarette's ruddy glow—
sleepwalking the story's end
how we wish, if only...
if only
To like, click comments or:
For a few days, anyway. I’ll be doing my science-y kind of thing for work and visiting a partner laboratory in Sacramento to assess how they do things in an up close and personal manner to make sure they are doing things with an eye towards getting quality analytical results [spoiler alert: they probably are; this visit is mostly just ticking a box].
While I don’t have a ton of time to do much, let me know if you live in the Sacramento area and want to grab a coffee (or two). I might have time one evening or in the morning before I catch my early afternoon flight home.
(more…)To like, click comments or:
The floor’s gone out.
I just thought you should know.
(more…)To like, click comments or:
sometimes the then seems
are not really any things at all
but other seems unconsidered
that beckon with their call, so
now back to the la-z-boy and
the rocking and the nights, dreaming
new oaks from acorns alone
but no, no, don't let seams show
keep all those seems deep inside
To like, click comments or:
she waves at the threshold
waiting to close the door
until i finally show sense & cross
over to her stone winters within
A poem prompted by a randomly selected Elder Futhark rune.
Today’s rune is dagaz, which has been translated as “daybreak”, that transitional moment between night and day. By extension, it might also be interpreted as “twilight” and is representative of liminality, transformation, the space between worlds, and suggests walking in both the material world and otherworld.
Please visit my Elder Futhark pages at sceadugenga.com for additional interpretations of the runes based on multiple references and personal reflection.
To like, click comments or:
turning towards headstones
these broken days we, under
the curtains green falling
& lost in the dream
stolen kiss on the cheek
in the nip of first frost
woolen the warmth
given your arms around
To like, click comments or:
i wonder if a part if me
is lost there on the path
seeking blaze left behind
either to or away from
recalling both nervous
and tremble hands
she wore over coffee
at the allnight café
cigarettes smoke
staining the dim lights
as stained as either's
reputations unsaved
i wonder if this dying
had any point at all
save for another branch
lost on a meandering path
leading towards
redemption or none
To like, click comments or:
dead or not dead
does it matter?
these are ghosts lost
to the mists of time
filling in the wake behind
i drank river water
tasting of whiskey
so very long ago
with autumn leaves
i skitter towards my
stone twilight grey
To like, click comments or: