Category: AI Art
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for RDP “Identity”
The Fibre of Water some days I want toempty myself on the tableand see who sits down. some daysI use long as a verb. some days I wishI had been allowedto be left-handed. some days I counteating ice cream as exercise. some days I walk in the rain,and walk back home in the rain.some days…
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28 July: A Six – Part :20
At an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Part 20: Samurai Oni no Hanzō Arrives last week: “… surely, the last syllables uttered at the end of time, Brigid … *Memento Mori.” “… yes, but if one lives with the knowledge that the body’s ultimate aim is to be dead,…
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22 July: A Six – Part 19: Memento Mori
At an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Part 19 – Memento Mori And he springs off the bed and shouts in a voice lean and tense as wire, “… Conneries conneries conneries.” Memento Mori I wake my laptop, take another sip of lavender tea, and study the leafy debris…
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20 July: Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week The I In It Sometimes I Forget She’s Gone For a time she was the best in meFor a time I half believed in rights and wrongsFor a time I believed in poetic sympathythat poetry was my friend For a while we were a summer meadowFor a while…
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15 July: A Six – Part 18 : Bedlam
At an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Part 18 – Bedlam Last week: “He’s gone, Brigid,” says the Gatekeeper, “Your Connor is gone.” This is *Bedlam Hospital, where once a week I come to visit Pierre … “…it’s three years and five months, says the psychiatrist, as if she…
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14 July: RDP Petrichor
The Rise of Petrichor It’s what shimmers wet light, undertonesof black that flowsthrough my veins. What’s visibly blind. It’s the scent of a single wavethat rolls ashore, or when Istand in peace in the dark. It’s a rising fresh, clean, or deep on deep that makesmy heart leap, and save butfor the cold knuckle of…
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9 July: A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week
A Happy Madness For Elaine this garden of slackened souls,I throw colour at it, fling pinky thingsinto its tangled weave of lavender that sleeps sedateas an ancient cat, and the ivy triesto blindly entangle the moon but that girl was my happy madnesswhere grass wouldn’t grow without me Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI,…
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8 July: A Six – Part : 17 Black and White
At an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintSix Sentence Story: Part 17 Black and White Last week: Last week: Connor slowly materialises, his anger falling in flurries of ash around him. Pierre’s eyes glaze wide with shock, he leaps up, upending the table with a resonating hollow-throated thud, and a chaos of…
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7 July: Oats in the Water (#rdp)
Oats in the Water he sleeps as stars align,grey beard, bristled by light.a voice in my ear sings an evening song, it comeswith dinner’s washing uppots, pans in the sink and it’s Oats in the Water.I cease to think aboutif the moon has a name. Written for RDP “wash” Music “Oats in the Water” by Ben Howard. Some…
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7 July: Journal of Thoughts From Last Week
Insight I’ll be okaylistening to strange dialects of birds, listening to rain’s descentbefore earth stops its fall, the sound of a hand pullinga bow across strings or the sound of soft finger padspressing ivory, or hearing wind shiver the trees and knowingclouds always race with the sky. Although I will miss seeinga la fée verte…
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