Poetry
Poetry / Prompts
The pavements are hotter in winter, the rain never wets the asphalt and I never tell you to do anything else other than “be”.
Poetry / The colour of revolution is red
And along with our bodies, the rage keeps on, / we chafe and bleed and clot and steer; / we go mad and nude
POETRY / Love, when you’re an adrenaline junky
And in spite of knowing this/ In spite of the absurdity of it all/ You let yourself fall
Pandemic Nocturne 1: December Dirge
Ask me not of Grief. For I have been burnt by its friendly fire with blood and bits of oozing mortal flesh spun flaky and ashen by its biting cold breath.
Reader Submission / My Home
The trust you gain takes time.
Fathers and Daughters and Unmailed Letters
Perhaps father was never taught to love.
Parting
While I fear whom you’ll become once you hear me, once you leave me.
Poetry / Black swan
from my blood fangs, disarrayed cold / looting my sore body / that has done so much for me, while I ached
Poetry / House of god
I wonder where God sits in that tower. I wonder whose cries are louder.
Prompts
The pavements are hotter in winter, the rain never wets the asphalt and I never tell you to do anything else other than “be”.
The colour of revolution is red
And along with our bodies, the rage keeps on, / we chafe and bleed and clot and steer; / we go mad and nude
Love, when you’re an adrenaline junky
And in spite of knowing this/ In spite of the absurdity of it all/ You let yourself fall
Pandemic Nocturne 1: December Dirge
Ask me not of Grief. For I have been burnt by its friendly fire with blood and bits of oozing mortal flesh spun flaky and ashen by its biting cold breath.
Parting
While I fear whom you’ll become once you hear me, once you leave me.
Fathers and Daughters and Unmailed Letters
Perhaps father was never taught to love.
My Home
The trust you gain takes time.
Black swan
from my blood fangs, disarrayed cold / looting my sore body / that has done so much for me, while I ached
House of god
I wonder where God sits in that tower. I wonder whose cries are louder.
Oak cognacs
From moon beamed mountains To plains deltaic; In Diasporas–detached
