Dear father, I miss you! Where are you now? Wishing you were somehow here again…
Category: Marathon Poem
Hour 22: Silence
Silence The absence of sound Stillness The pause So much lives in that pause that we take for granted In this too loud, too fast, too much world We forget the pause The inhale The exhale The breath The pause That pause holds infinity It…
Hour 23 – In which I replace myself with coffee
In which I replace myself with coffee after Nico Wilkinson When my partner greets the morning with coffee he does so with gentle precision. He grips with fingertips, never palms, does not want to overwhelm what is already warmed for him. My partner…
Hour 22: Genetics after Neil Hilborn
“I think the genes for being an artist and mentally ill aren’t just related, they are the same gene” – Neil Hilborn Robin Williams Chester Bennington Marilyn Monroe Kurt Cobain Sylvia Plath Ernest Hemingway Vincent Van Gogh Virginia Woolf and countless others It’s…
The Scouring
The sky runs red tonight. The streams that wreathe this little world Are scarlet. The bioluminescent grass Is fading fast. The fern caps are falling. At dusk the day’s beginning. The final day, Six burnmarks long, And all of it in dreaming. The ilkies drift,…
“Mumble”
Speaking mumble yet still maintaining a will, The quietness of the early night saying hello. Things are not quite right around, I’m acting like on a drug but just a drop of coffee running on my blood. I’m good, I guess I still…
Hour Twenty-Three: A different world
i breathe and dive into my body my feet are flippers as i plumb the depths with ease where am i headed? ah, there it is, the sacral region, and at once, i see the cords, black and stretching as infinity i tug but nothing…
Hour 23, Poem 29
Once there was a crow That wanted to touch the sun To fly higher and higher To where there was no one And so he tried day in day out To fly with all he had But in the end he was still here Away…
Hour11
A new start… Autumn is here! And I enjoy George Enescu festival’s music while drinking a hot coffee. I’ve got everything…except you, my love!
Hour 18 – Toys in the Attic
In the attic there is a door old and wooden with cracks and gaps leave alone cautioned the woman But curious minds need to explore wondering what thing must be avoided listening with ear to the door screams and scratches could be heard Bolting away…