parched, screaming and digging against the push you take a pretty hard sip to self the leaves lips dry, wide water it, there there, don’t cry pour the pot now a child sponging up the sun eyes smiling …
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All articles filed in THE ARTS
Silent Breakfast To Go
Whiskey sour. Whiskey sweet. Wisk her heart. Beat her Eggs into an om Lette her devour it From a thirstless hunger. You know best, After all. And yet, She knows enough Not to run on An empty storm Ache. __ photo by samane mohammadi on unsplash. om, n., a mystic syllable, considered the most sacred mantra in Hinduism and Tibetan…
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Nine Crows and The Godavari
Monsoons seize the trees of palm Clouds stand not alone behind the red curtain sun I swim with the black widowed crows Across the farm, a house rests on generational bones The familiar taste of sandalwood Burns in my throat and I think, I am home They ask, did you miss home? Two-eyed fish, banana…
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Necessary Friends
you’re at a lunch party, talking lessforking a bruschetta, careful not to make a messthinking of a cheeseburger, of the galaxies and Euler’s Identitynot the colour of your lip matte but you know you’re a bit of bore, a bit of a vagrantyou’re not thinking of a Hamptons vacationin this assemblyyour reticence is your salvation…
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TICKLING CATASTROPHE
image from 1944 film Gaslight, starring Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyer, source: “What Does Gaslight Even Mean?“ __ can I stop by?I need a needle and thread to sew on a button. can I stop by? I need your advice. I stepped in. I had to.can you believe he would hit is own mother? can I…
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Kintsugi & T(h)ea
I find our tribal human mind will always fight against the heart, missing the soul of the matter at hand. Unless the steady mentor’s brush meets the tree’s gold-infused sap, patiently stroking our scars to rejoin us we remain broken, shards of ceramic tea pots, waitingto pair our bitter matchawith their coupled sweet. __ This…
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they tell a story
The scars on her body They all tell a story For she had been ridden of freedom To speak, to laugh, to live & to love With a life planned out just for her She was caught in binding ropes Her “well wishers” had weaved oh so carefully But the day had come when she…
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Thicker Than Blood
At the age of 22, I met the 63-year-old Armenian woman who had given me up for adoption. On the evening of that breathtaking day I stood in her bedroom. We spoke through our reflection in the mirror in front of us. I felt small, not in the five-foot way I was used to, but…
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It’s All Poetic Justice Until We Lose Our Eyes
My story is so nearly relevant, I forget and roll my eyes. Devil in savior’s clothes.Chooses strong women to destroy.Feeds his need for power, not so much to enjoy.{climax} his ego & impatient impulsesblind him. his triangulatedpitted fruits gather, withselfless, patient pistols restingat their soldier hips.Protests him out of town. {climax} Our storyHas a modern twist…
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