Category: AI Art
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26 Aug: A Six Sentence Story
17 of 27 – Ruinlit: Courage Mistaken for Recklessness Bounce: The 28th Glyph It started with a bouncing ball — brushed her ankle, rolled off the curb into traffic — chased by a boy no taller than courage, his hair sunrise, his eyes bright as thawing ice. Then came the car, chrome-gilled and blood-sleek, chaos’s…
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26 Aug: Aura’s Introduction
Introducing Aura A new Six Sentence Story series told through the wind’s own voice starts tomorrow. Aura is the breeze that stirs laundry on the line and slips beneath doors — a watcher, a whisperer, and the memory that lingers when the moment is gone. Set in a small English village, Aura follows Päiviö (a…
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25 Aug: Ruinlit – The Liturgy
17 of 27: The Liturgy for Ruinlit – Courage Mistaken for Recklessness I. The EdgeNot chaos—but its twin:the flicker at the blaze’s hem,where air whispers nowand earth hisses no. Ruinlit is the step takenwhen the choice is burn or run.You will blister.But you will not bend. II. The GlintThey call it madness—this fire in your…
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22 Aug: Not the Whole Bone
This Is Not the Whole Bone One ear pressedto the city’s ribs.Asleep in the moment of almost: almost safe,almost seen,almost loved, before almostswallowed me whole. I curl into print,a parody of rest,and dream ofstars, not just holesin a beggar’s blanket. But here,where shadows bend,I keep countof what refuses to end. In this kingdom of almost,I…
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21 Aug: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1.I am thankful when I discover a new word, particular if it’s archaic or obsolete. It’s like throwing the joker card into a sentence. Like Circumforaneous — to wander from place to place, like Don Quixote’s horse is on another circumforaneous path. (1650 obsolete.) 2. Thankful for these grapes. Ripening nicely. Sweeter than I recall for…
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20 Aug: MicroDosing 100 µg
What Remains When the River Leaves The boy’s blue balloon escaped at the fair, and for three days it floated—over wheat fields, a highway slick with rain, the chimney where it bobbed, hesitant, in the rising heat. On the fourth day, it settled in the branches of a winter-bare oak. A crow pecked it once.…
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19 Aug: A Six Sentence Story
16.1 of 27 – Aetherskein: The Fragment: The Unseen Loom The Shape of a Word 19 August: Back home at an Intersection Named After an English King and a Saint: Brigid opens her journal to a fresh insert — thread-stitched, soft as confession — and when the pen touches cotton paper, a single drop of…
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19 Aug: A Six Sentence Story
16 of 27 – Aetherskein: The Fragment: The Unseen Loom Journal Entry: Beachy Head — 18 August, maybe 19, the moon doesn’t care Where the Thread Ends Twice A ribbon slips ashore at Brigid’s feet — opal-lilac, sea-soaked, old as plague-song — and the tide murmurs her name wrong, like someone remembering it from a…
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18 Aug: Aetherskein – The Liturgy
16 of 27 (Aetherskein) – The Poem – (The Fragment from the Unseen Loom) 16 of 27 The Liturgy for AetherskeinThe Book of 27, Fragment: The Unseen Loom I. The ThreadNot coincidence—a conspiracy of grace.Aetherskein glints where you almost look,where the light bends just so,where the crow drops the same coinin three cities,in three lifetimes,into…
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18 Aug: After the Sway of Summertime
Louis Armstrong’s Ghost is on the Porch Swing(a poem after the sway of Summertime) Heat drips like honeyfrom the sleepy F of the trumpet,your hips unspoolinga blue notebetween a screen door slamand a cricket hymn. Piano keys stickto the backs of your knees,while a bass line digs a gravefor all the unlived livespooling in your…
It's Still Life 