Laying under those skies,
A blanket of stars,
Cold warmth
Of dark nights.
Livin’ this life,
Hearing thunder crack
And rainstorms roll,
Country nails,
Wrapped like barbed wire ‘round the soul.
Heart overgrown just like wildflowers,
Untamed and bridled,
The wildlands never do conform to concrete.
A heart of ground,
Beating under these city streets,
River coursing through valleys,
Waiting for the floods to set it free.
Tonight breathe like the dark sky,
Love like wildflower,
And kiss this sweet life on its elusive lips,
Come tomorrow pretend to be tame.
May 12
May 12, 2026 at 3:33 PM UTC
I've emptied my soul
Ripped it apart
To bear my beating heart,
Thunderous to the ears
A fearful beat
Conjured by the dead,
Whispered hopes
Of all they never said,
Walking stones,
My body lay dead
Waiting for my return,
With hollow eyes
And caged heart
My soul has gone away,
Seeking others
Violet trails,
And cosmic tails,
Cold light
Of stars and black nights,
Where my torn soul wanders the skies
Seeking peace from my beating heart.
Feb 23
Feb 23, 2026 at 10:24 AM UTC
The deserts and mountains,
The plains and plateaus,
Snow-capped peaks and forested beach
There lie the bones
Whales, coyotes, bears, owls
And the likes of you and me.
Gristled, intact or sun bleached,
They tell a tale of the dead.
Where they were and who they’d been,
Only to find a home among rocks and weeds.
How she wanders and sees….
Well that’s a story only heard by the trees.
She gathers and collects,
What most prefer not to see,
Let alone touch or dare to respect.
She weaves what’s been mangled, molested, and left behind.
Strung together with cobwebs and hair,
Death permeates the air.
Yet she sings, not a fanciful tune,
Or even a reverent one
But rather a terrifying song,
That makes the wise weep and ignorant scream.
Let the old bones go away,
Let them rise,
And run down the canyon way,
Till muscles grow to ache,
And lungs learn to breathe.
Come dawn the night will have given its last birthing cry,
And the Bone Woman will collect her things and go on her way.
Feb 12
Feb 12, 2026 at 6:17 PM UTC
Winter tales, dancing upon the frozen ground
Hear the echo howl,
Wolf’s moon suspended in the black sky.
Ghosts whisper from the graveyards,
Calling any who stray,
Knowing the sun doesn’t shine today.
We’ve come full round,
In orbital symphony.
A newborn cries,
Winter’s come,
And it’s turned cold in the land.
Her delicate, deadly fingers have reached
Across the ground,
Reminding us it’s a time of rest and death,
Before the pangs of birth kiss the sky.
Jan 5
Jan 5, 2026 at 2:54 PM UTC
I’d look up at the night sky
Every night,
Bathe in the warm nights and starlight
Till the night turned late
Moonless nights
And when the bright watcher roamed the sky,
I’d lay flat and watch the universe tick by.
Falling stars,
Constellations and planets,
Cosmic dust drifting like sand across
A solar sky.
The nights grew cool,
Wintry embrace kissed those starry nights,
The ground didn’t warm anymore
And the night turned long.
I miss those nights,
The fading days of simplistic times,
When a night sky could fill what the day lacked
And I could see the moon and stars.
Starry skies,
Watcher eyes,
Remember me tonight,
I dream of those nights
And I yearn for the eerie songs of foreign lights.
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 2:48 PM UTC
Three holes,
Enter the ever sleep.
Void you never came,
You left me in different arms.
Through cuts of sleeves,
Breathe me,
Ether of eternity.
It came to me like a warm dream,
As if always meant to be.
A smile,
Gold laced and warmed by sunshine.
Like a whisper in the breeze,
She fed me.
More than I could eat,
Beyond what I could see.
A love I dare not describe,
The words would surely fail me.
When the time came,
I was given no choice to stay.
As warm as it was the cold awaited me,
Reality and pain was ready to embrace.
With reassuring grasp,
She told me to go while she stayed
And sent me on my way.
Wake me up,
Tell me sweet lies of reality,
Fill me with pain and anxiety,
Let me question my sanity,
My anesthesia laden dreams.
When the day is dead
And the night reigns,
I’ll whisper the truth:
I may not have died,
But I spoke to someone beyond the grave,
In a place of gold,
Why I cannot say.
No sacred lie could I deny,
The dead are far more alive than you and I.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 9:13 AM UTC
I’ve seen the day,
Coming down the road,
Scribed in my dreams,
Lived in my nightmares.
I’ve always seen,
My ghost of a soul,
Has always known,
And it whispers to me in the dark.
For whom the bell tolls,
An answer hits the mark.
Voices call me home,
Though I squeeze my eyes shut,
All I see are lights
And visions of afar.
Silver bird of light,
Screaming in the dark
Of places beyond heaven, hell, and earthy might.
Why do these plague me so?
I’d ask if any were perhaps to know,
Though the answer already lies in my soul.
It is for me to know,
To dream,
To live the hellish scapes,
To see beyond winter’s end,
And summer’s embrace.
With utmost care,
I transcribe these things,
Perhaps for no one or posterity,
For simple insanity,
And for all those who cannot breathe.
This isn’t for me.
I’m here only to see
And perhaps write these wordless things.
Come the day I journey across the sea
I’ll send a dream,
To the ghost of me.
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 9:04 AM UTC
I’ve never smoked a day in my life
But today I could breathe that fire one time.
Don’t care about looking cool,
Those aspirations are long in the review mirror.
They say grief is a sacred giver,
But today its hung up its visitor sign
And its settling in.
One breath of fire,
Isn’t going to solve a thing,
But it might make the ache spread.
Make my lungs feel like one exhale,
Could blow it all away.
They say grief fades with time,
But today the future doesn’t mean a **** thing.
Hang the noose of hope round my neck,
I’ll wait this out one day at a time.
It’s quiet now,
In my mind the smoke rises above me,
A memory of what I thought would be.
Come to me sacred grief,
I’ve got no light but I’ll pretend,
That I could smoke this grief into yesterday.
Jun 16, 2025
Jun 16, 2025 at 9:20 AM UTC
Someone dreamed me up,
Crafted me with a face of stars,
A body to belong,
Though I never quite belonged here.
The mask was fit bit by bit.
When the voices were too loud,
In slipped the stone.
When I laughed instead of cried,
The stoic mouth formed.
When the mask was complete,
Not a ***** could be seen.
It was smooth,
Made of stone and glass.
Forged in fire and set in ice.
Now this mask holds,
Though there are fault lines.
There the dark and stars reside.
It’s cold in this place,
Though I don’t mind.
I imagine the time,
When the mask breaks
And those who wait,
Embrace what’s been hidden beneath.
It’ll be a day when the dreamer wakes me.
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 4:17 PM UTC
Alone on the plains of immortal grace,
Stands a lemon tree,
Planted from a single seed,
Watered by tears,
Pruned by a biting breeze.
Guarded by the lion
Who sings of wintry days,
Where skies turned pale
And nights sing.
Of an old soul,
Roaming starfields and comet roads,
Even as cold suns and river runs
Fell into black holes—
Still, the old soul roamed.
Tears of grief,
Like silver leaves,
Drifted on the cosmic breeze.
And where the lion sat beneath the lemon tree,
He listened to its haunting song—
Of love
Lost and gone.
Grief is a sacred song,
A raging roar
For his dearest one and family,
Buried below
This lemon tree,
Ancient and old,
Sowing bitter roots.
Where the lion roams,
He roars,
And the lemons grow.
There he’ll die,
Returning to the fruits of home,
Wrapped in leaves.
Until his song has ceased,
Lives the Lemon and the Lion.
May 9, 2025
May 9, 2025 at 3:40 PM UTC