This kiss, then.Now and then, forgotten. This rain washing, time.Remembered in echoing moments.This lost, mad, wild haired king, moans - winds low-bellied, deep in brush.A crucified stag.The madman nailed and hung himselfagainagainandagainNebuchadnezzar growling, trapped in brambles, hanging, engorged, wild eyed.Ready. Resigned.Willing.
Category: Creative Writing
Fourteen
King Ram, a brideless exile, stalked by shades in the silent wood.Set, to rip a godinto 14 perfect pieces, reverentlywithin the Minotaur’s gates.Hot bull’s breathupon a shoulder, the burning teeth and limbs entwining.Now lifting an acacia lance, bodies unformed and reforming.Bull’s lusty urges, birthing onethe gift received, the life unfolding.The life unfolded, failing.The heated kiss, … Continue reading Fourteen
The Answer
There was a wind winding down from star to sea, whipping along eastern ranges, whispering strange words in accented syllables, a Romanian Shakespearean rag, sometimes humming something from The Weekend. Sometimes a muse must be answered. There were scrubs worn in the imaging room, fancy dress for after, the hint of musk on curving neck … Continue reading The Answer
Burning Autumn
In the autumn, with leaves burning, safety as children running embers floating in the air. And I am burning leaves again. The tulips i pulled from your garden how you say me hiding, behind our pine. Eyes wide. Knowing that you were one person. And about to become another. How. You. Yelled. And how it … Continue reading Burning Autumn
spring flingin’
This is just to say that I am in the back yard there's a red breasted robin feeding 5 feet away, a woodpecker upside down at the same feeder and a burning red cardinal sitting not far above. Their songs call back and forth, as far in the distance a hawk beats wings towards the … Continue reading spring flingin’
(zero attribute)
i keep thinking that there's this room i'm supposed to be in and it's all white and glowing a little, and my gown is matching and my knees are up to my chest my head is shaven and my feet are bare. and everything is finished for me now
Heart in England
I had a heart when I was in England Heart in England, morning runs through cemeteries racing with Mary's ghost, merging with the mist amongst the cenotaphs, vaporous fingers tracing ancient names on leaning tombstones, and tracing sweat along my chest as this American boy pumped legs round and round, lighter then, lithe even, leaping … Continue reading Heart in England
Eye Gaze Cannot Ignore (Arrows)
hell beach i am going to I am going beach to (you without)gathering seashells 'n (wind sea chuckles) >>>this is where you are looking, not right, up to where i found the right spot for your eyeballs [icon insert here(?) :] "blam" when designing/ smashing shells arrows draw eyes (scroll down, now) i am going … Continue reading Eye Gaze Cannot Ignore (Arrows)
Just Some Time
Just some dumb counter encounter, me and my old doppelganger, this dusty man, wry eyed in the mirror, wishing the kale juice was something higher test. Gotta flush those toxins, baby, gotta pretend the lastnightlastdecade didn't happen. And there's that kid moving into view, sliding up next to him, flat noted whistle, sly look, he whispers: … Continue reading Just Some Time
Lost Maps
...as a child, the sun on my cheeks, warm grass under bare feet, running up green, undulating hills, rolling down their far sides. Our laughter. Blue sky, wheeling birds, puffs of clouds, cotton wisps, kite scudding below. Thinking "This. This, then, is happy." A place I would access, had accessed, over and over... limitless, and … Continue reading Lost Maps
Writer Moe 