Category: Poetry
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28.10: De-Scribing – The Liturgy
The 27th of 27 – The Unstitching and De-Scribing of the Bond The Liturgy for The De-Scribing — The Book of 27(as written by Felreil) I.The body’s lanterns dim,and yet we see. We seewith the soles of the feetthat know the coldof monastery stone. We seewith the palms that rememberthe weight of a crow’s feather.…
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27.10: Black on White
The Striped One, Who Is Both This isthe light and dark of it. You stand in the thresholdwhere dust meets breath,where sky calls to you, you — who wear the herd’s mark,light of consciousnessin your serene gaze. The light sees you.The light wants you. Sacred is the patternthat binds all things, black stripe of shadow,white…
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27.10: Bellhollow – The Liturgy
The 26th or 27th Glyph · Liturgy for Bellhollow, (from The Book of 27 – Emptiness Mistaken for Grace) I. The Sound of Emptiness It begins not as silence,but as sound’s echo —the hum in a glass bowl after the strike,the vibrationin a bell that holds no clapper. Bellhollowis the note that lingersafter the singer…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Considers Ownership The Old Woman watches the cat— that cat, the one who pacesher kitchen like a landlordcollecting rent in broken sleepand half-remembered dreams — and she says, soft as dust:“Perhaps you are mine,in the way the wind owns the sigh,or the crow owns that stolen spoonhe buried near the mugwort.” The…
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26.10: SenHai #23
Senryu: two old souls watchingthe moon pour its golden dream.a shared, silent wish. Haiku: a moon’s veil fallspours light over the cliff’s edgenight drinks golden dawn. Senryu: two souls at the edgemoonlight spills their held breath loose,they forget to speak. Haiku: moon’s river falling,night drinks the silver current,stars tremble awake. Senryu: lovers lean, unmovedas if…
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25.10: Journal of Thoughts
Of Poets Dead and Gone while I slept in my chair,my dream, waking my horse, although I’ve noneand never will, nevertheless, it woke, and we rode down a rocky lanewhere stood the souls of poets dead; and gone, and one who seemed of marble,who stood as any might alive —rain falling thickand clinging to her…
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23.10: The Past is a Foreign Country
The Past is a Foreign Country ‘stood beside my grandmother’s grave,one stone of granite, shown and marked,where I, when young caught lightning bugs. Tell me again that saying her nameis like a warmth,a hug,a mug of steaming tea.Tell me again that she loved me. Take me to her altar,her little shrinesafe above the tide-line.Take me…
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22.10: Briarthrest – The Liturgy
24 of 27: Briarthrest – The restlessness that follows after healing I. After the Breaking:It doesn’t come while you’re breaking.It comes afterward,the moment you find yourselfunmoored from ache. It’s not the wound.Not the grief,but a chair empty at the table.You learned to eat alone.You stopped setting a place. II. After the Healing:It is what the…
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22.10 MicroDosing 70 µg
Floriography She went barefoot into the brittle garden, the earth creaking like old knees. Dandelion nodded its tired gold; yarrow whispered of stubborn hearts. She bent and gathered what still offered itself: Queen Anne’s Lace, sage, a handful of seed, an autumn-washed grape leaf. From a chipped jug she poured moonwater, murmured gratitude to the…
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20.10: Glintmere – The Liturgy
25 of 27 Glintmere – The Hesitant Harmony of a Road Trip with My Sister I. The PreludeA road trip does not begin with music —it begins with the space between music,that heartbeat when the radio cracklesand neither of you reach to change it,when Paul Simon’s voice is a third passengerand the silence stops being…
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