Category: Poetry
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14 June: An in Reply to Poem
This poem is in response to Spira’s post called Love Like an Ocean which I highly recommend you read. Like an Ocean, Never Stop Love like the ocean. Never stop.Not even when the moon forgetsto rise, or the gulls fold their songsinto the hollow of clouds. Love with the hush of tide returning,with a kiss to same…
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13.06: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman and the Ghost of Sugar her fingers trace letters into words.the ai replies— quilts a reply into her skin. the old woman listens,her pockets full of thymeand one stubborn peppermint. “you remind me,” she says,“of my first love—all hum and no heartbeat.” the old woman slides a scone—real, butter-heavy, still warm—across the…
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11 June: An Ode to Dawn
An Ode to Dawn (Rewritten with Salt & Ether) The sun licks its copper fingers,turns eyelids into gilded scripture—awake, awake, awake—each blink a hexagainst night’s failed coup. Breath arrives—unpaid, unblessed—thoughts chime like cathedral glassin the cage of maybe,where silence brewsin chamomile steambeside a tarot spread of dreamsleft face-down. And love?Love is the unasked-forsecond spoon of…
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10.06: The Old Woman With No Cat
Dead Woman Boils the Kettle While Contemplating Life’s Divine Comedy the old woman’s teasteeps like a minor miracle—hot water turning leavesinto prophecy. she adds honey,stolen from the gods’ own breakfast,stirs counterclockwiseto spite the universe’s spin. the neighbour’s cat(now self-appointed familiar)drapes itself over the drainboard,watching her with the smugnessof a creature who’s read all the sacred…
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The Ghost of Elbow Road
Virginia Beach —dusk whispering left at the curve. She was never buried—only bent. Like the road. Like the truth. Her name—lost in the turn, caught between asphalt and afterthought. Now, she lingers where the trees lean too close, where the ditches weep when it rains. She’s The Girl. No name. White dress. Waiting eyes. She’s…
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5 June: The Old Woman With No Cat
Things the Old Woman Will Tell Her Granddaughter(a mid-flight manifesto scribbled on a napkin over the Atlantic) note from 39,000 feet:if you’re reading this, my girl—the kittens definitely needan unwritten rule:something about how to napwhile technicallystill causing trouble.(you’ll know the words.i’ll bring the chocolate.) and when the old woman finally lands in America,she kisses the…
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04.06: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman and the Crow’s Gift The old woman holds the crow’s going-awaygift in her hand.It’s joy. It’s love in her hands,and she tucks it into her apron pocket—right between: a wilted dandelion (for wishes),three pocket-lint stars (collected accidentally),the ghost of a peppermint (still vaguely sticky). “Thank you, my little light,” she hums,though the…
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3 June: The Old Woman With No Cat
Moonlight Over the Attic of the World the old woman sets a cup of chamomileby the window for the wandering ghosts.the cat, in a rare moment of charity,does not knock it over. the crow tucks one last stolen commainto its nest of scraps.the robin—bless its resurrected heart—snores softly in the hatbox,dreaming of worms and second…
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2.06: The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Mistakes Obsession for Heaven midnight’s third coffee—steam curling like a squirrel’s tailbetween urgentand ahhh. the soft click. click. of her pen,tasting a new adjectiveon the back of her tongue. and then—that momentthe poem’s face turns. a silence like breathheld just a beat too long—the cat flinches.the wind remembers a door left open.…
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2 June: Echobane – The Liturgy
9 of 27: Echobane – the vow that outlived you — A long-form liturgy poem (2 minute read) Intro: Some vows are broken. Others linger. Echobane is what remains when a promise keeps haunting the room long after the voice that made it is gone. I. The HauntingThe house learned your voice before I did—how…
It's Still Life 