Tag: poetry

  • in the weald

    a path in the middle of a dark forest
    Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash
    gone to wode
    in the weald
    gone to fever 
    in the head
    would he to wild
    oh darkling, at
    spanning rivers
    in his bed

  • woodenhead

    Photo by Alberto Arroyo on Unsplash
    oh, woodenhead
    come in from the rain
    quit your thefts
    seeking a beauty
    outside for a one
    that is within

    all crows make argue
    for your eyes—
    you do not use them
    anyway, they say
    instead, my woodenhead
    you are a' thieving out
    in the pouring rain

  • wandering at amble

    Photo by Fabian Bächli on Unsplash
    is it descendance
    or ascension
    when desire is
    in suspension?
    when you feel
    tension but remain
    uncompelled to act
    on anything at all?
    are you alive
    without drive or
    are you just living
    life small?

  • black sands

    black wooden fence on snow field at a distance of black bare trees
    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
    i walk
    the black sands
    hand on hand
    holding the blade
    carving a line
    none dare cross

    we are rose petals
    scattered scarlet
    blood my blood
    a desert red without
    you mouth to
    drink me in

    winter song of wine
    a stone beach
    broken of time

  • otherside

    Photo by Harald Pliessnig on Unsplash
    i wonder at the fog that
    obscures all thinking
    dancing ghosts away
    from dream

    all the lies, all the lies of me
    i feel a new sobriety
    washing over

    another wall showing cracks?
    what awaits the otherside?

  • decline

    Photo by Greg Johnson on Unsplash
    and no, i think i won't
    i'll pass, if you please
    disengage from your rage
    recuse my everything
    because, as they say:
    i am so tired

    (insert back of hand
    to forehead here) 

    waiting for the
    first frost already and
    summer's solstice just come...

  • inertia

    Photo by Ronin on Unsplash
    to river our walks
    through autumn, i
    hold the by and bye
    between the burning
    and the dry decay
    brown to crisp underfoot
    talking the nonsense
    of water twisting eddy
    burble a river on roam
    ever youth in motion
    a kiss of inertia
    a kiss to november's
    home

  • imagined

    Photo by Nicole Elliott on Unsplash
    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

  • in your pale

    Photo by Dana on Unsplash
    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

  • become of long

    Photo by Kevin Hessey on Unsplash
    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