Saturday, January 24, 2015
Monday, July 14, 2014
Recently I have had some very odd dreams. This is not unusual for me--I often have fantastic adventures in my sleep. Last night's was too good not to record. I have considered keeping a dream journal in the pest but never actually done it. This might be a good place to try. At least for the interesting ones.
In last night's excursion into dreamland, I found myself in a small team infiltrating a damaged star destroyer full of storm troopers. (Yes, I had listened to the Star Wars soundtrack recently. Why do you ask?) The best route to the bridge, where we would try to hijack the ship, was through the exercise and recreation area. Everything was going well even though I embarrassed myself on the basketball court, until someone tried to rob my teammate and I intervened in the ensuing knife fight. This attracted attention and my cover was blown. I was still trying to figure out how to get away or buy time for my fellow saboteurs when I woke up.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
own my life,
my own screams unheard.
Lies held close
self from self,
closely held lies.
Protected, trained to heal;
betrayed and wronged, overcome.
Choosing honor, by honor chosen,
overcoming wrongs and betrayal
healing to train, protect.
Failing again, never protecting,
renewing betrayed oaths,
protecting, never again failing
Brilliance without compassion
required this action today
for salvation, yet salvation
for today's action, this requires
compassion without brilliance.
Monday, February 11, 2013
the damp cloud cover keeps it warm enough
that a soggy gray morning sees mist in the air
instead of frost on the ground.
And on the third floor
around 1 a.m.
a tear-sodden pillow kept
a heart from freezing over.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Friday, May 4, 2012
While writing daily is the main spirit of the April poetry challenge, I also failed to take advantage of the opportunity to experiment with new styles and forms. My 2011 challenge month was much more successful.
I keep promising regular posts, and if I said something like that again it would be getting redundant. Know that good intentions are still persistently paving my way, and I'm hoping that pavement leads to a happier place than it does in most versions of the idiom. (If not, I guess we will have more posts like these ones.)
Friday, April 27, 2012
mists the air with the smell of oranges
as i dig my thumbs into it
peeling back the initial image
eager to explore the delicious ins and outs
eager for juice to dribble
and for hands to remain sticky with remnants,
depositing residual wonderings on everything else
that i touch today.
the skin pulls away and the plump flesh emerges...
except it doesn't.
i hold an empty rind of a poem
nothing in it
and my hand is slick with superficial oils