Category: AI Art
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26 November: Journal
25 November:I’m sitting in my chair. Reclined. Fingers locked across my lap. Eyes closed, and headphones isolating me from vague noise. I’m listening to I Walk With Ghosts by Scott Buckley. Violins in deep centred waves. Spiral rebirth – I fall into a shallow sleep. A shallow breath. Strings drawing out my every thought into…
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26 November: Found Poetry
Joy Find a cave ina hidden dell Live in an utterance of its living thingsand festal joy. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St Porphyrious, First published in English 2005. ISBN 978-960-7120-19-9.…
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25 November: When You Listen to Music
When You Listen to Music While You Sleep When you listen to musicwhile you sleep, you’ll hear Hammering on ironAnd a scent familiarAs a husband’s smile. Weather’s calmed.Air’s greyed.The ground remains softAnd wet clinging to clay. She follows the sound.Brings him a wedge of dark bread,And an apple. He nods.Their words are few and far…
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25 November: Found Poetry
Hidden No one sees you.No one understands you. All these things you have hidden. There is silence in the middleof a forestand humility. Breathe in the wilds of your person. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use.Wounded by Love, The Life…
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24 November: For Red Wolf
24 November: 6ºC, feels like it should be frosty, but it’s not. First coffee of the day, and I’m looking out the kitchen window at a woman in a blue plaid lumberjack shirt. Her white dog is wearing a matching gilet. I never clothed my dog. My dog was a dog. A neighbour dresses her…
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24 November: 06 Völuspá
Völuspá: Svalin He carries a shield,calls it Svalin. It stands before sun, more gloriousthan cold iron. Deity of sea and rock,heaven, hawks and Hel dogs. Burnt from the place it fell,weary weight of the sun. Awake. Its face is triumphant andby its one name it’s always been known. By its one purpose, ancientsoul destroyer. It…
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24 November: Found Poetry
Run She runs through the night.Strains her feetin every direction.Seventy times seven.Those empty years without You.Secretly.Silently.And she threw herselfinto his embrace. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St Porphyrious, First published in…
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23 November: Found Poetry
But First … he said, you must become a poet.Wings in flight, to livein dreams amongst stars.Infinity amid silence. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use.Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St Porphyrious, First published in English 2005. ISBN…
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22 November: Found Poetry
Mother and Child To be good out of fear, This is not out of love.This is not Our religionOr humility.A whole soul or A whole heart. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of…
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21 November: Found Poetry
Friends There was a friend,a forever face,clear as water and roses. Monday, we were friends.Tuesday, we were languageexploringthe meaning of each other. We were beginners. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Wounded by Love, The Life and Wisdom of St…
It's Still Life 