Vulpecula When will the seekers learnThere’s no such thingAs one perfect thing There are differentKindsOf perfect Some you can tasteSome you can hearSome you can see And some that give youA funny feelingAll on its own Like being adriftIn the Bootes VoidOn a derelict Like buckshot stasisOutside when rainNeedles your skin PerfectsNo perfectOr imperfect LikeContinue reading “Vulpecula”
Category Archives: Poetry
Spectachrome
De3thwish
Fields of wheat weave silent Sitting rooted something thin Wind threading in and out Nothing stirs above but when The war ends Sits a lone gunslinger Shell shocked pain reaver Jacket yellow as the crops Copper soil but the plots Where bodies bled out And brown uniforms turned To mulch Overworked by the ruin WroughtContinue reading “De3thwish”
Sleepovers
I haven’t felt so normal In so long I guess it only makes sense That after having you over I get to wake up to abnormal When I roll over and you Aren’t there
Nidhogg
Look on and despair Ye Deep sea serpents And articulate devils I am the true Nidhoggr And you will Understand fear
Ellensberg Omen
You can’t but see the haze Lung irritating Trees on horizon hills Lay cloaked, beyond still A leak below Spitting sulphur Into a crystal sky To turn smokey quartz What was once beautiful Is now still in a different form Now torn the ground And make leak the unfound All the birds call For anyContinue reading “Ellensberg Omen”
Ancestral Shrines
I’m trying to invoke the spirit of autumn With you Trying to tie up all these loose threads And bind rocks together In the shrines we’ve built Out in the woods To remember what We’ve left behind Never dying like Those falling leaves Just another place to worship How we got to where we areContinue reading “Ancestral Shrines”
Lake Crescent
Leaves lying on the Surface of a lake crescent Floating by in Nitrogenless currents Clouds compact Sky drips into water Still floating on by A stem and petal carefree
Trainside Ice Cream
Cannabis shops Replacing roadside trains Where we used to get Ice cream
Hatred
Hell broke the back Of the beast I’m fighting But I can still see The savage is biting So if I have to curl a hand And strike it in a spree I’ll beat it with my fists ‘Till it’s dead and not dying