ravenshaunt.blogspot.com
Raven's Haunt: September 2007
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Sunday, September 23, 2007. Legend of the Squidhound. As a young man, Sean faced nature’s conspiracy of ambivalence at the mouth of the Mississippi River. It was the dark of early morning. Temperature in the air: ambiguous, unconcerned. Temperature of the water: a salted cool. Sean stood drowning his hook in waist-high water. He waited in his waders, snaking line into the flats and retrieving nothing. Was he fishing for flounders? A prominent black margin marked the fish’s posterior fin, and dark s...
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Raven's Haunt: August 2007
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Sunday, August 05, 2007. Twenty minutes before dinner I put the wine in the fridge to cool. Red, a Pinot Noir, a walk with raspberries, Oregon's valleys. A fillet of walleye in a gentle baste, a hint of salt, an aroma -. Oregano. The fish pops in the heat of the skillet. My God, I love the cool handle of the scrapper - flip the fish. See the perfect brown, taste it in the air, feel your lungs. Lighting is essential. No candles and yet ambiance. And I love music twisting elegantly in the background -.
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Raven's Haunt: It's Weird, I Know
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Friday, January 26, 2007. It's Weird, I Know. The Players, The Actors, The Despairing. Jeremiah the Criminal Negotiator. Maria the Teller, the Hostage. David the Artist, the Hostage Taker. From Act 1, Scene 2. A seeming robbery has taken place. David has taken Maria hostage behind the teller window but allowed everyone else to leave the bank. These people report to Jeremiah that David has remain silent, not asking for money or ransom. Jeremiah announces his presence. I watch you tuck her hair. No carp ch...
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Raven's Haunt: February 2007
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Sunday, February 25, 2007. To an Unknown Woman. To an Unknown Woman. I delight in the back of your head. I delight in your forest of hair that tumbles. Down from its peak,. On the foothills of your shoulders. You turn and look at me. Again, I delight in your hair. As it flies off those foothills, drifts,. Like willow branches after a storm. The silhouettes of your smooth cheeks. The range of your eyes. And the nature of our inverted intimacy –. I always look away. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
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Raven's Haunt: February 2006
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Saturday, February 25, 2006. Madness Built A House Next Door. Madness built a house next door. And its windows are twisted and. Shuttered. On the front door. A raging dragon is perched like. A sparrow. With each knock. The dragon's maelstrom mouth. Bites wood like a thunderclap. Madness built a house next door. And its porch is ancient and. Cluttered. On the roof, shingles. Simmer like scales and chimneys. Line the ridge. With each gnawing. Knock at the door, flame and smoke. Wandering eyes; a green hedge.
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Raven's Haunt: January 2007
http://ravenshaunt.blogspot.com/2007_01_01_archive.html
Friday, January 26, 2007. It's Weird, I Know. The Players, The Actors, The Despairing. Jeremiah the Criminal Negotiator. Maria the Teller, the Hostage. David the Artist, the Hostage Taker. From Act 1, Scene 2. A seeming robbery has taken place. David has taken Maria hostage behind the teller window but allowed everyone else to leave the bank. These people report to Jeremiah that David has remain silent, not asking for money or ransom. Jeremiah announces his presence. I watch you tuck her hair. No carp ch...
ravenshaunt.blogspot.com
Raven's Haunt: Legend of the Squidhound
http://ravenshaunt.blogspot.com/2007/09/legend-of-squidhound.html
Sunday, September 23, 2007. Legend of the Squidhound. As a young man, Sean faced nature’s conspiracy of ambivalence at the mouth of the Mississippi River. It was the dark of early morning. Temperature in the air: ambiguous, unconcerned. Temperature of the water: a salted cool. Sean stood drowning his hook in waist-high water. He waited in his waders, snaking line into the flats and retrieving nothing. Was he fishing for flounders? A prominent black margin marked the fish’s posterior fin, and dark s...
ravenshaunt.blogspot.com
Raven's Haunt: October 2006
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Tuesday, October 31, 2006. Advice poster #3 in the writing center: "Always write – and read – with the ear, not the eye. You should hear every sentence you write as if it was being read aloud or spoken. If it does not sound nice, try again."). What does it mean, “if it doesn’t sounds nice.”. Must it sound pretty and nice,. As sweet to the ear as chocolate is to the tongue? What if a sentence is bitter, soured by death and pain and fear? It shouldn’t play nicely on the ear. Like an over-sweet rhyme.
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Raven's Haunt: March 2006
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Monday, March 06, 2006. Where does the imagination draw me? Does it draw me over bridges ascending. To meanings stuffed in clouds? Draw me wisdom dipped deep from wells. Does it draw me a figure,. Molded lines formed to fit a 3 or 9? But if imagination draws me on and over. Rising bridges, am I not the one who. Am I not the one. Who draws wisdom like water from echoing. For in the end, I own the figure. Imagination draws. I draw myself. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). View my complete profile.
