Category: AI Art
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10.24: MicroDosing 130µg
Walking Westport The sea breaks inches from where I stand. It’s a cannon’s rush on my ears. A tempest. The sound of purgatory. We’re walking fast along wet sand, the tide pushing us faster, the beach is paper-flat and straight into the west sky. We’re barefoot. Mum says it’s good for the arches of our…
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23.10: The Past is a Foreign Country
The Past is a Foreign Country ‘stood beside my grandmother’s grave,one stone of granite, shown and marked,where I, when young caught lightning bugs. Tell me again that saying her nameis like a warmth,a hug,a mug of steaming tea.Tell me again that she loved me. Take me to her altar,her little shrinesafe above the tide-line.Take me…
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22.10: A Six – The Book of 27
24 – Briarthrest: The restlessness that follows after healing Of All the Goodbyes Brigid stands in the doorway of a house she once called hers. Behind her: packed books, a pair of curtains that never quite fit the windows, two chipped mugs (left not in carelessness, but filled with gratitude and the faint spice of…
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22.10: Briarthrest – The Liturgy
24 of 27: Briarthrest – The restlessness that follows after healing I. After the Breaking:It doesn’t come while you’re breaking.It comes afterward,the moment you find yourselfunmoored from ache. It’s not the wound.Not the grief,but a chair empty at the table.You learned to eat alone.You stopped setting a place. II. After the Healing:It is what the…
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22.10 MicroDosing 70 µg
Floriography She went barefoot into the brittle garden, the earth creaking like old knees. Dandelion nodded its tired gold; yarrow whispered of stubborn hearts. She bent and gathered what still offered itself: Queen Anne’s Lace, sage, a handful of seed, an autumn-washed grape leaf. From a chipped jug she poured moonwater, murmured gratitude to the…
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21.10: A Six – The Book of 27
25 of 27: Glintmere – The Hesitant Harmony:A Moment of Hesitant Harmony: a road trip with my sister My sister drove with a headmistress’s composure, the silence between us taut as piano wire — until she muttered, low and dry, “You always sold more Girl Scout cookies to Mr. Murray than I did,” and I…
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20.10: Glintmere – The Liturgy
25 of 27 Glintmere – The Hesitant Harmony of a Road Trip with My Sister I. The PreludeA road trip does not begin with music —it begins with the space between music,that heartbeat when the radio cracklesand neither of you reach to change it,when Paul Simon’s voice is a third passengerand the silence stops being…
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20.10: Kintsugi’s Language of Lacquer
This poem is inspired by Spira’s Edo era music creation, and I highly recommend that you listen to his creation. Language, here, is not a melody but a collection of lacquered shards — each word a resonant fragment. The music lives in the gaps, in the negative space (ma), and in the reader’s act of golden repair…
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18.10: MicroDosing 50 µg
The Gentlest Stalker The past is a quiet stalker. It walks beside you in the supermarket. A breath. A faint chill as you reach for peaches. It sits beside you, a silhouette you never quite see, but always feel. It’s the ghost of who you were, keeping pace with who you are. Written for Microdosing: 50µg…
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17.10: Journal of Thoughts
A Wednesday in October I.I am wearing long socks and music, and watching clouds turn angry. The morning’s been a car chase — after notes, after sounds. The clock’s ticking, lending the day its rhythm. II.He wears old dark colours. Wool and boots. Leaves dropping all around him. The bones of trees are bent his…
It's Still Life 