Category: AI Art
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18.03 Cadralor for the Oracle
A Cadralor for the Oracle I.There’s a crow on the roof ridge,struts across it as if it’s the world,bends its wings, scolds, clamours,swears an ocean of words from itsdark battalions of creamy clouds. II.Petulant weather. Raining as ifspitting upwards by the dead.Splashing against the window,a drummed blur of silver fingersthat change tunes in whispers. III.Listen—a…
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17.03: A Six at Dovedale
Beyond an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Day 13 Dovedale & Fiddling Bob-the-Hob Picture, if you will, a lush green valley, time-carved by the icy-clear River Dove; craggy-faced limestone cliffs; sweeping views from Thorpe Cloud hill (a reef knoll); Victorian stepping stones positioned for crossing the river; earthy scents—damp…
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16.03: Journal of Thoughts
My Chrysalism I found the first book I ever read in a wilted cardboard box in the loft—a story about a mischievous little girl who lived in an orphanage in Paris, though the orphanage turned out to be a boarding school, which, to a five-year-old, felt much the same. As I opened it (the spine…
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14.03 The Oracle’s Cadralor
The Oracle Shouts Spring I. Winter was a sharp howling war, Sunday’s spring was utter calm; a day of molten glory and sun, of nights crowding stars pressed troubled faces upon the sky. II.The sea roiled rough though wind laid calm; thick-flecked with light under the light of stars, a shuffle of sands in lapsing…
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13.03.25: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1. Lunar eclipse on Friday—March’s full moon is the last winter moon, and it’s called the Worm Moon—and it should be gloriously red because of the eclipse. 2. Ladybirds on daffodils, and yellow bursting out everywhere. 3. The temperature soared to 18°C (65°F) … for two days—and then everything froze again,…
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12.03: Found Poetry of Ragnarök
Ragnarök: Found in The Weavers c.14 Sliding on Ice slide through the dayas if on ice,on a slick bya flaring flame of sun, En á ísi skrípa be thee a rootless tree,a waxing wave,a brittle billow,a rooting boar, En á ísi skrípa be thee a broken blade,the whim of a child,the first own fruit,I am…
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10.03: 12.3 Night with “Hamlet”
Beyond an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Day 12 Part 3 The Question Is The Answer The curtain rises, and the ordinary becomes extraordinary, where tragedy’s shadow precedes its entry; the stage is bathed in moonlit gloom; the towering stone walls of Helsingør Slot silhouette the night sky; mist…
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07.03 Ex Nigro et Albo Hiemis
Ex Nigro et Albo Hiemis It’s from the east facing window that I watch spring, although this morning’s winter fog obscures the view from anything beyond the windowsill, but no matter—I’m unmoored from gloom by an amber warning to winter that blooms bright as a lantern. Yes, the crocuses are blooming; yes, the birdbath has…
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6 March: Ten Things of Thankful
In no particular order: 1. I am thankful for 5 days of sub-zero temperatures (Celsius) and crystal-clear sunny skies. 2. Shrove Tuesday, also known in the UK as Pancake Day. Blueberry pancakes, bacon, and maple syrup. Unfortunately, a headache and my tummy couldn’t stomach the idea, so Shrove Tuesday was moved to Wednesday, and Wednesday…
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4.03: Found Poetry of Ragnarök
The Weavers c. 13 I ween myselffrom death. From its fair and fame,From its winking of an eye. Vid eld skal öl drekka. Haply, I am its fooland most faithless friend. Thou ask of runes—but silence is surely better when deadby the fire, we, drinking beer. Vid eld skal öl drekka. This is the continuation…
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