memories flicker

in frames

of people

i’ve been


my body
my corpse
my mind
the conflict
of who i am

Asheville winter moon

Asheville winter moon

dreamer ghost

Cried for 10 years,
prayed for 10 years,
exhausting mortal allotment of tears.
Reverently letting go,
ephemeral hand of lost searching
this lifetime
destined to be a holy man.
Lotus and sterile
upon quivering cliffs,
scolded by the laughter
of river om,
peeling a snakeskin of smudge,
fingerprints of impostors
and false lovers
revealing nothing, save the storm.
Gales of scarlet turbulence,
stupid will, drowning
in torrential zen,
and deep within dark sheets
just beyond mortal infection,
yet close like lingering perfume,
modulating, noise and note,
virgin silhouette of inspiration –
the dreamer ghost


ancient bones whisper
secrets told in murmurs
rustling dark trees
as the night’s wind


your tears rain
bathing every wound
and delicate scar
under a négligée
of silk and lace

the spider’s dream

the spider’s dream…


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 314 other followers