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through the wilderness below: 11.2013
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Through the wilderness below. The cold cuts clearer. She's gone back to her digging. Summer's blood died with the leaves. And was trampled underfoot. The night's coming soon. She finds the seeds that permeated never planted. The frail roots are breaking. No matter how numerous). The frost's grip is too tight. The bare moon offers no answer. Neither from the cracking pine. There were too many witnesses, she worries. But could it even be considered crime. The distance long becomes the distance high. And be...
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through the wilderness below: 10.2013
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Through the wilderness below. Apple picking, indian curry, literature, and feminisim were. Rain caught and left us breathless. Stomping through puddles and. The terrible feeling of incongruency. Falls quicker than this storm. They call it the retrograde of mercury. The turn of tides and planets. Of things I don't understand. Is there any difference from those far-off. And of these held in my hand? Still when I lay my head down to sleep,. If I let myself I can hear the. The scrape of dishes in the kitchen.
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through the wilderness below: 03.2014
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Through the wilderness below. It took me 3 hours to get out of the shower today. The barrage from above and the drain guzzling from below were enough. The warmth encompassed and the slightly too-chlorined Nashville water beaded and broke into streams mirroring veins that pulsed beneath my skin. The midday sun froze over the scene. A student found dead in their car on the 5. These spaces were everything. They were too much. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Some things you might want to know sometime:.
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through the wilderness below: 08.2013
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Through the wilderness below. Soldier on, little lady,. With the weight of a thousand suns. With knowledge as a lover. While curiosity continues to kill. Balance, little lady,. One another amongst your swamp of a self. Careful not to let on. Slyly tip toe across the ragged edges of the world. Photo by Thad Kopec. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Some things you might want to know sometime:. View my complete profile. I wrote other stuff before too:. Some really great folks:. Paula La La La! This is Why We're We.
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through the wilderness below: 09.2013
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Through the wilderness below. These prints proclaim my separateness. Throat thickens, heart quickens, brow furrows into restless desperation). 8220;How do I reinvent the past? Or, even more anxiously,. 8220;Must I destroy it? Ancient words ring audibly. Words of proud families and excited friends. Like those first noticed warm breaths in the morning. Like the feeling of feet in shoes. If everyone was so sure then, how am I supposed to fit? From this angle, I’m much too small. The past and present. For th...
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through the wilderness below: 02.2015
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Through the wilderness below. Four corners no matter how small still can create an island. You can look up and around but here beside the. Is a horrifying step to. Stake out the campsite and tarp the corners down. Because the storm is blowing. In from the place where I have been. But as for me and my house, we will stay amongst the. And the crowd gathers gloriously beneath the gladiolus. But of course there isn’t room for an island. Beneath those trumpets of tropical. Never knew this was. A steeping-feel...
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through the wilderness below: February
http://palmerdurham.blogspot.com/2014/03/february.html
Through the wilderness below. It took me 3 hours to get out of the shower today. The barrage from above and the drain guzzling from below were enough. The warmth encompassed and the slightly too-chlorined Nashville water beaded and broke into streams mirroring veins that pulsed beneath my skin. The midday sun froze over the scene. A student found dead in their car on the 5. These spaces were everything. They were too much. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Some things you might want to know sometime:.
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through the wilderness below: 12.2012
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Through the wilderness below. A bleak December as of late, I'd say. All of a sudden, I feel very small due to friends nestled away in their own neighborhoods far from mine. I haven't spoken much, but I have walked far down trails of sleeping oaks and pines. Some had fallen and their branches reached towards me urging and coaxing me off my path. In my red coat I trudged onward ignoring their summons. Moving listlessly along. Gliding, almost, as a ghost. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.
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through the wilderness below: digital jesus:
http://palmerdurham.blogspot.com/2015/02/digital-jesus.html
Through the wilderness below. Master sifter with his sieve. A certain fragile fiber of the foil. Gold in the round circumnavigates the sun. The seeds that permeated never planted. The distance long became the distance high. The rain that fell didn’t fall for growth. But out of fear. And the cold cuts clearer. As the building where we stood. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Some things you might want to know sometime:. View my complete profile. I wrote other stuff before too:. How to write a poem.
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