Great Adventure in My Language, Illustrated, Defined by Color

It was his finger that started it... pointed at the center of the shatter, into shards, like ice, like swords and daggers, his one eye set on the darkness before him, ready to press on into the night. Best steps forward crunch into the dead leaves of virgin woods, leave behind the dusty gravel places … Continue reading Great Adventure in My Language, Illustrated, Defined by Color


August Kiss Farewell

She's almost gone, August           almost gone, never quite left           I know she will be back           I just have to wait           because sometimes she           peeks out of other seasons, times          so bright, … Continue reading August Kiss Farewell

Postcard #42: A Smile Peeks Out

You know what? The most beautiful thing happened to me today, I saw your face in my reflection looking back at me out of the corner of my eyes, a shine like no other -- a smile I can't help but recognize, wrinkles at the corners of my lips from where the line of my … Continue reading Postcard #42: A Smile Peeks Out

Postcard #41: What I Saw at Dawn

One of the benefits of going through a fit of insomnia... Stay up through the night and meet the dawn, find a cool place to watch the sky wake and let the living things around you show you their secret faces. I have dozens of poems, neatly handwritten, un-revised, they came out automatically as if … Continue reading Postcard #41: What I Saw at Dawn

The Precious Ritual of Grieving into the Night

I do not like it when the dawn comesit's the end of dreams         awake am I or sleeping   it's the endit's the end of things       the death of the dark    it's past hidingnow I have to create myself the artificial nightblanket up myself a cave   … Continue reading The Precious Ritual of Grieving into the Night

Blood Under the Ice

It is an almost dyingthis mourning I doa storm-rage pushingcome here and go awayIt is an unfair livingthis voluntary cursea floating banshee keeningwanting be here and seeking awaydiamond-like in its hardness how it grows insidedark coal in the meat of my heart breathing out dust My ghost produced a sparkin me once         … Continue reading Blood Under the Ice

The August Heart’s-Ache-Art Starts Now

Starting tonight, I vowed I would write a poem a day and would draw a sketch a day. First I will start with the passion that provokes me to do this in the name of my God. I look at this green all around me and it fills me with such love, my heart aches … Continue reading The August Heart’s-Ache-Art Starts Now