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#transitory
It’s not the 19th century anymore, the ocean, after all, is not just wide, it’s deep. voice is beyond human. a flicker of it draws out the vapor trails from each bygone freedom. because there’s no resting on pretty and nowhere to hide. and so I call out to the past of you; who you once were or might of been. the problem with names: some things are too fragile to name; broken to begin with. I can only try to understand the constraints of the body, of only having 10 fingers, two feet, and a finite wingspan.
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Dec 13, 2025
Dec 13, 2025 at 10:39 AM UTC
A Series of Actions From Where You Came
From love to exhaustion This intangible thing between us Geography is just a symptom (Affliction...) (Endocrine...) Deux mesures de solitude The downturn sun of your skin Is my broken ally We love as enemies In the jagged darkness If only we could live as easily as we die
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Oct 16, 2025
Oct 16, 2025 at 7:43 AM UTC
Twilight at Rock Bottom
So many “road stories” from the Odyssey, and Kerouac, to Augustine. Each rich in emotion and spirit most of the stories have the hero hitched to a fellow traveler to bathe the soul in word and mood to throb with the music. I have recurring dreams. I’m in a hotel looking for an elevator can’t find my floor or room or can’t find my car downtown. I wander streets, and lots. Are there road stories hidden in these dreams? Why do I trip, fall stay misplaced and lost find only transitory destinations?
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May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 10:55 PM UTC
On the Road
~ *this once sound vessel succumbing to agony, as if scuttled by a siren at sea, and in her heart flutters and sunbeams, she's not alone in her dreams, there's a torch light with wings, dancing about her wounds, it burns of empathy, but too numb to feel the pain of her dying rooms, hereabouts goodbye, under the silk of anesthesia, she whispers, "blade of grass, then away we fly..."* ~
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Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 8:02 PM UTC
Lorelei & the Moth
Life began, as autumn fell, And the leaves turned to ice on the pavement. Shadows shortened, The earth went stale And cold darkness filled every moment As summer arrived And the earth turned bleak Despair peppered the path laid before me Water pelted the earth And the leaves turned weak, Littered corpses of love strewn beneath me Lost and alone, With a grimacing soul Trading pieces of me with the seasons Futures wasted on hate, Dreams darkened in cold, Winter ripping my mind of all reason Night fled the sky And the shadows retracted Darkness left, to you standing above me Empowering my hope, With devotion requited And a future that stretched far beyond me Your hands were soft And the warmth of your smile Lit fires behind eyes that were lonely Your taste and your touch Stretched metres to miles Giving love. Giving hope. Giving glory All I wanted was you All I hoped for was you, Our lives are a journey together From season to months Your strength sees me through With a love that will last til forever
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Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 10:27 AM UTC
Seasons
Janus-faced, she sits in her Sinister bathing tub Cleansing herself from Fallen lovers The very ones She devised subtle ends to Lest they should claim Her heart for a kingdom Vandals of her plumage Whom she allowed To drink from her stream Once or twice A god of vengeance sent her A message in a bottle today To prove the origin of her flow And remind her that time is Fly-by-night
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Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
Evanescent Queen
Between the envelope and gondola I'm lighter-than-air. Montgolfier-style? Not really. I ascend as a prayer with his eyes wide shut, timid in the feel for heaven. Speaking of heaven, some say it's no longer a gated community, but the association fees have doubled. Really I float like a Yost, flaming onboard for the photo shoot. The morning pass is for the kids with spending power. The noon move, and media darling, catches the Comic-Con crowd just stumbling out of a parent's basement. The night drift, drink in hand, mimics the trigger man who got his days confused from too much killjoy. Laissez-passer both giveth and taketh away -- there is no immunity in the sky, no amnesty to assign my crimes to. I'm just your smiley actor on the Netflix trail. You love me for a season or until my balloon gets popped. Whichever comes first.
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Jun 3, 2020
Jun 3, 2020 at 10:58 AM UTC
Drifting Toward Hiatus
the transitory nature of your touch disconcerting emotions sustained by memories that stick like dust i can’t get enough of this- whatever ‘this’ is my mind harps on about your warmth, presence, and kiss your broken hands grasp mine, my poisoned lips touch yours; nothing more than a sad race to see who succumbs first to the secret silencing both of us: subdued, i bite my tongue ‘love’s’ just a synonym for ‘guilt’ and guilt’s the only race that i have won.
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May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 8:43 PM UTC
A Synonym for Love is Guilt
Waves speak to the shore in rippled verse scattered shell strands of kelp in the sand each visitor inscribes a story *sandpiper, wigeon, crow raccoon, otter, coyote* I read each one as I write my own
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Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 9:04 AM UTC
Morning Stories
I am here Yet most times I'm not Likened to a fleeting zephyr Perchance may be caught Beyond the bend, it's hard to see Uncertain, unpredictable, unsure There are chances however unlikely To chart life's trot and canter Awaiting the moment I would voraciously savour The fullness of my being that's rare and transitory Because almost always, I'm drowning in doubt and clamour With fevered breaths drawn more quickly
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Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Transitory
/\/\^^/\^ ***wrinkled mountain sits old trees bow down in respect even rivers are slow!*** SoulSurvivor 5/14/2015 (repost)
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Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
wrinkled mountain sits
Awake to a slowly beating drum morning meditation drifting up the hill in the garden, tiny birds add sweet highs tuneless ravens, the bass undertone trees whisper ancient lyrics on the passing breeze. We stroll the Path of Philosophy through massive wooden gates into carefully sculpted gardens exploring the endless number of temples dotting Kyoto each more lovely than the last. Quiet Nanzen-Ji is where I feel the most following worship worn steps to a cave-shrine heady with wet and incense we are purified by waterfall spray before returning the way we came voices hushed buoyed by eternity’s hand. The hotel lobby is filled with crimson and saffron glistening heads and broad smiles from monks gathered there we bow to each other and are one may it never be forgotten revelers arrive by busload for hanami, cherry blossom viewing beneath a revered tree decked out in pink splendor lit from below to radiate surreal, internal light we sample Kobe yakitori soba and corn grilled over open flame as we flow through the smiling celebratory crowd we savor what is transitory as sparks and blossoms whirl settling on our hair and skin.
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 12:15 PM UTC
Kyoto
*Raindrops marking points On waves breaking beyond shores So faint our affair*
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 6:33 PM UTC
Nebulous
HAIKU ***wrinkled mountain sits old trees bow down in respect even river is slow!***
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
wrinkled mountain sits
A turtle shrinks into its shell Then shrivels, Grape to raisin, Sun's warning echoing: "Danger, danger, danger!" As river moves from mountain to ocean The golden arc across the sky Soon is only a faint glow on faraway rock - Yet it will come again To shout it's harrowing cry And shrink and shrivel And round again, again, again 'Til Kingdom come       'Til salvation              'Til death do us unto part
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
Shrink and Shrivel again again
In the morning everything become blushing With splendid light and reflection! In the afternoon started to be used up In the evening step towards transitory gloomy! In the night become woozily and Dream to blush again in the next morning!
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May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 9:42 AM UTC
Daily transect