Sunday, February 11, 2018

Out West: New lines of communication

So here I am back staring at this blog -- all six entries of it -- and thinking, maybe it's time to dust off the cobwebs. A few years ago, this space was a place for me to "publish" my creative writing. It was a place for me to force myself to "finish" my ideas, and prevent myself from endlessly editing my work. Lately I've been thinking it might be time to re-purpose this place.
.
Spring snowdrops suggest it's time for a fresh start (Photo taken Feb. 10, 2018)
When I moved out west, I had the best intentions in terms of keeping in touch. But time differences make scheduling a challenge - is it too late to phone? Too early to text? Email is less likely to wake you up, but always feels antiquated and overly formal. Social media has never really been my style. 

How I imagine you look every time I want to call (Photo taken Feb. 11, 2018)
I if I write it, will you come? I was thinking I'd write every two weeks. We're all busy so I'll keep it short and sweet. I'll make it current too - I'll only use photos I've taken since the last post. And I'll do my best to entertain you - to make it fun and funny or to make you stop and think. 

This place can become a window into my life. You can look through it if you like. Best of all, time won't matter. You can read this whenever it's convenient for you. Maybe you'll read it all at once, the way you binge-watch your guilty pleasures on Netflix. Or maybe we'll have a bi-weekly coffee date. Or maybe this is the only post you'll ever read.  I won't judge you - we'll still be friends either way. 

But I'm hoping that you'll come back. And I'm hoping that if you read this, when we meet again, it won't feel as if we've grown so far apart. What do you think?

Sunset (Photo taken Jan. 17, 2018)
If you'd like to chat about something you've seen here, please feel free to send me a private message or leave a comment down below. 

Monday, December 11, 2017

Let me give you my life

https://www.instagram.com/p/BFChI8TSNGO/?taken-by=thestarpress
Photo credit: staceygrosh

Three thousand four hundred thirty seven
days since
I lay in a daze 
wince
Sunlight ablaze
evince
A blossom of pain.

Command me to be well.

Two hundred seventy five
days gone
you're lost &
we're all wrong
air-tossed
conclusion foregone
A blossom of brain.

Command me to be well. 

Ninety
days left
an anniversary
of hope bereft
hand of mercy
fingers deft
A blossom down the drain.

Command me to be well.

Numberless
days until
I feel
I've had my fill
what's real?
Blood spilled
Turn to steel
A blossom in the rain.

Command me to be well.

Command me to be well.
Amen. Amen. Amen.

Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
I will lead that deathless death 
Good God, let me give you my life.
- Hozier, "Take me to Church"



Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Offer of Admission

 
Photo Credit: http://christophermartinphotography.com/

no one likes 
      waiting for time
           Poe's Raven perched 
      precariously on hopes
of snowy sunrise
     while doubt devastates
            nations be(l)low

       Nevermore

presently my soul
      find solace in snow
            process this process
      the Raven thus quoth
a fleet of time
      so small against stars
             sunrise circles above

      Nevermore

time waits 
      for no one
            likes waiting for time
      a hundred suns
will rise against
      one black mark 
            one word on snow
     


Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
            Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
            Merely this and nothing more.

                         . . . 

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

From "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe


Thursday, July 3, 2014

The Study of Two Disciplines




Lab Report


Go ahead.
Objectively subject the subject to your objective
But know that all objectivity is subject to your subjectivity

Numbers can lie
Lies can be numbered

Can we quantify the quality of life?
Qualitatively measure the quantity of a moment

Are you qualified?
I’m not.

You see me straddling a line that isn’t there
I’m not scared to paint a prism

Perspective is not subjective
Our souls can see holograms

They like to pit us against each other
Look again. Is Hegel still there?

To embellish is to experience (as)
To experience is to embellish

You are searching for truth and finding meaning instead
Never stop.
 



Image credit: AllThingsPrecious
http://allthingsprecious.deviantart.com/art/Prism-Texture-3-428568123#skins