Category: Journal
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17.10: Journal of Thoughts
A Wednesday in October I.I am wearing long socks and music, and watching clouds turn angry. The morning’s been a car chase — after notes, after sounds. The clock’s ticking, lending the day its rhythm. II.He wears old dark colours. Wool and boots. Leaves dropping all around him. The bones of trees are bent his…
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10.10: The Last Clear Map
To Avignon: The Last Clear Map 28 September (waiting in ferry queue at Newhaven)I.maps dream in the gloveboxthe sunrise is our compassour clocks are made of salt II.the sea pulls at usaway from white cliffs writinglove letters in chalk 29 SeptemberI.journey’s labyrinth —coins, a prayer, the bells ring,my soul leaves, fed by light. 30 SeptemberI.black…
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7.10: Journal of Thoughts
Credo at Chartres Cathedral I was the pilgrimwhose heart beats in time with the rose window.A woman with a student’s mind—always hungry,always questioning the authority of dust,turning history over in her palmlike a strange, worn coin. A woman with a memory—not just recalling, but re-weaving,feeling the roots beneath the cathedral,hearing the spring’s songthrough the stone.…
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5.10: Journal of Thoughts
Please visit Spira’s blog, read and listen to Act 1 through Act 3 Inspired by Spira’s “The Shape of Absence” They say absence has no shape —but I have felt its geometry:the exact negative spaceof a hand I can no longer hold,the hollow of a voiceforgetting its own tune. It is the silence between wordsnot as…
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19 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
The Sea Soft as a held breath, it speaks —pebbles learning rhythm,each stonea lifetime smoothedand given back. The sun rests behind a veil,its gentle mercy,not wanting to scorch. Wind and water barter secrets,a salt and hush trade in tides.And he stands listening,a child of this quiet moment, so let the sound wash your bones —those,…
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17 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
Verdict Wind Blink—and it’s raining cats and dogs,clouds inked in bruisesgallopingacross a sky. The crow shrieks —sparrows vanish mid-flight. It gives pause.A flutter.A missed beat. I count them on beads —knotted threads soakedwith intention. Was it us?Was it them?Why does this wind feel like a verdict? It pulls at the hem of the world,whispers under…
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15 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
A Stream of Consciousness We are a small village on the edge of a larger one, with an ancient forest standing mute as moss between the city-folk and us, and an Anglo-Saxon church whose bells fill Sunday with a provincial air beside a field thick with bracken that sheep chew to the root every winter…
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13 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
This poem is in response to Friedrich’s article entitled Terra Dystopia, which I recommend — it is an excellent read. He asks: What kind of time are we living in today? I find myself living in a Kairotic Interregnum — an age between ages, when the old dissolves, the new has no name, and choice…
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10 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
This poem is inspired by an article written by Spira: “Fear of Art” The Brush is a Blade They tell us freedom trickles down,a ribbon untied by royal hands,a parchment pressed with seals.But freedom does not fall like rain. It rises —from the ground,from the spray-can hiss on stone,from the ink that refuses to dry,from the…
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9 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
The Absent Ink (a companion to an upcoming Six: The Shadowed Door) It is like finding a shadowwhere a door used to be —a threshold you crossed a thousand timeswithout ever seeing the hinges. Or like the neighbour you waved toacross the wire and glass of years — who’s now gone, and no casseroles arrive,no…
It's Still Life 