Category: AI Art
-
6 November: The Widow’s Stick
All year that limb hung there as if baffled by gravity’s indecision, and sometime between dark and daylight, it lost its balance, fell from the sky, and plunged to the earth. White beechwood bark peeling and curling back onto itself, lichen-poxed, and laying in the mud-soaked grass like a withered long bone. It’s what my…
-
05.11 Found Poetry
Without What is pleasing to you and What is pleasing to your sight And I was still of sound mindwithout realising desire 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…
-
5 November: Still
Still He’s fallen asleep in his chair.The sun’s served its purpose today,it’s nearly set, and his stillness isin me. It’s not translatable. He breathes, nearly unmoving.He’s water within water.His heartbeat sounds liketiny footsteps. Running. This man of mine is a paradoxof cyclones and soft breath.Movement and salty stillness.And he burns hotter than the sun. He…
-
04.11 Found Poetry
Slaves All things are slaves to sun.The sky.The stars.Trees.Birds.It’s Wisdom of Solomon, gone mad. 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. A concise explanation…
-
4 November: Twenty-Two Seconds in 1974
Twenty-Two Seconds in 1974 Wake up, he whispers in her ear.She turns over, her eyes unwilling to release the last dusting of sleep.Those brown eyes of his; those brown eyes.And he says “Do you trust me?”“Do I trust the man who drugged me last night? No.” she says.And then she grins that sort of grin…
-
4 November: The Suitcase
Mum thought it was a suitcase, but then she didn’t open it up to look, because that would mean spending more time in the charity shop than she wanted to do, just in case some neighbour walked by and saw her – in a charity shop for fig’s sake, so she bought it for a…
-
03.11 Found Poetry
Completely To put to flightAnd mortify oneself, A soul, weak and short-lived,And little understood, And I was completelyAbsorbed. 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…
-
3 November: A Moment
A Moment October.Is gone. It’s another new-born month with a new maskthat’s scented and presseddeep into me like a salty hook pullingme back to the sea, or windforking through dry leaveson bare branches or stuttering soundsof playing cards pegged onbicycle spokes. The sea has turned cold,the waterbites my toes, but only for a moment. Some…
-
3 November: 03 Völuspá
Thunderclap Seidhr Odin, took her fra Valhöll’s shelf.He, her protector, and she is Vala who calls on the shapers of stars,for their threads of fate and sight, and she calls to south’s lay of lightand the sun’s earth-tethered moon. Her one hand holds steeds of Hel,in the other a death bell’s knell. Seidhr blood she…
-
2 November: She Shapes the Wind
She Shapes the Wind From here,She feels the chalk cliffs breathe.Below her, The Atlantic exhales in waves,And inhales wild vapoursInto its kelp roots. She comes hereWhen her mind is a hive,When her heart despairs. She can leanInto a wall of wind, and holdMirrors to her soul’s window. Vigilance is here,Watching for those who seekPeace of…
It's Still Life 