Gothicarus: Part XIII – Dawn
Serial Gothic Poem The sun seemed like a new and exciting friend. Her carriage rolled along the road for days, Yet neither the journey nor the dips in the road and the rocks- suddenly...
Tagged: poem
Gothicarus: Part XII – Conductor
Serial Gothic Poem He frowned at her sternly. “You are…connected. You see and hear What others do not. The heavenly realm calls to you.” She twisted her pale hands. “I’ve always felt that He...
Early Morning Self Portrait
Poem The smoke flows out From between my teeth Like green wind And ash scatters in the smile. The smoke is sucked sharply back With a pain that I love and hate All at...
Gothicarus: Part XI – Bumps
Serial Poem Did you hear that? I’m certain he’s back again. Measured breaths against the floorboards Betray the location of the fiend. I will not move a hand or foot. In stillness, I will...
They Will Not Take It From You
Life Poem Hey, boy, come here, tell me what you’ve seen: is it the North, the desert, or the forests evergreen? Come here, don’t be shy, no one’s gonna mock you, you see, I’ve...
Time Traveling
Poem The blue sky and the stars watching me from above are calling. Remember us? From the time when you could barely stand on your feet and used to dream about talking bears and...
Forget My Name
Poem Focus on the mountains ahead, Forget the pain behind. I need to stop turning in circles And just stop: Stop hitting replay on this sting, Stop thinking And just set out. So I...
Gothicarus: Part VIII – A Timid Spring
Serial Poem When the white came down, it was searing. Dazzling, sparkling colors appeared. She was terrified; she was intrigued Was it possible the doom had cleared? Desperation knows not to caution, Bid oneself...
What I Think About in the Football Stands
Poem There’s something treasured in watching someone you love From the distance, as though to acknowledge That had you made a few different turns along the way that You wouldn’t know them at...
You Too Could Do Abstract Improvisational Dance!
1) Primer There are strata of selves, labyrinths of thoughts. There is pure action. The self will insinuate into all things. It is a pond: wrought and confined; fettered by contrivance of beauty, ideas...
Citizen Of The World
Life Poem The egg has hatched. A tiny beak reveals itself to the tray of the sun and runs back in. It is scared of the unknown sounds, buzzing of the world, caressing of...
