ineffable

I can’t find the font

my mind is speaking in. And

then the magpie sang.

mercy

*Trigger warning: there’s a picture of a clown in this post

 

 

clown

I have started cleaning house.
I’m going to be brutal. (No, really…)

Then two days ago I found this.
It belonged to my twin brother.
Why I have it, I cannot answer.
(Mostly due to temporary paralysis, and now I just can’t remember).

But it is,
truly,
the stuff of nightmares.
(And italicized, centralised, poetic importance.)

And I swear, I heard some synapses burn out when I saw it. And others that absolutely refused to be created…

(Also, if you can, take a moment to listen to this…
oh my…)

interminable iota

DSCN0366

I admit. I am rather happy to see this year end. It just seemed appropriate to repost this (from the 17th of Dec, last year).

~

that pause of minutest minutes

between the un and the furl.

the joyous window unwinding

that threatens the re and the curl.

the risk of the lean

into the breeze,

minute puts out its smoke

and falls to its knees.

it’s time to go sailing

 

out of time with the music

the way toddlers dance to the notes in between the way DNA composes the seams notes of divine harmony and unexplained dreams the reticent wavelengths shudder unseen at unanticipated syncopation

the pause in rotation

uncentering my core

unsettling the fore-

gone conclusion

that one day

my spirit

will settle down…

I got a heart full of rubber bands
that keep getting caught on things…

dresden

img_20170209_205729_277Thirteen years have already passed and I still remember the way Dresden’s venerable spirit soaked through my pores.

But it wasn’t until my beloved friend started to sing, that my heart translated the stories she told me, the unspeakable truths of her tormented past.

Never have I been so moved by sound. Perspective winded me in all tenses.

If ever anyone should bow to any sense of venerable, it was now, at her humble feet. I took a photo, one that should be in the dictionary…

prayer

onominapia 137

My soul in sympathy

to those expressing grief –

I marvel at the articulation

of WordPress poets

who graciously lavish beauty

beyond horizons.

But all I can do

is exhale

the outline of a sigh,

knowing they will fill it

with words lit by transcendence

and an ancient promise,

because my own soul is heavy,

and this snow falls in

like the sighing watch of the night…

Romans 8:26

~

photo: Chase Miller