sweet city| poem

Winter storms on a windy dawn, they carried me out from bedrooms of boredom and yawns! There I saw people with heads that bobbled too far from their necks, but twas a splendid time, no less, no less! A girl of straw hair ordered an ice cream cone that stacked hot cream miles high, until…

trading eyes | poem

mustn’t trade souls for I do not what is foreign. trading eyes– just for a small time!– will let us see this world in a new light from a different life. I see how the sunlight swallows the shadows to make this old city something golden, but only from your eyes. from mine you tell…

Cherubs of Blaiic | Poem

No greater beings can be found in the entirety of this earthly plane to hold the essence of spirituality and purity as the cherubs of Blaiic No human kindness can compete, no mortal action can compare to the effervescent vivacity within a cherub of Blaiic’s care They hail from a northern kingdom guarded by silver…

Yuki-Onna | Poem

Dark coils of raven hair whitened by winter’s snow Skin pale and blue from antiquated rage and the unrelenting, tumultuous cold Poised in a glistening meadow of snowflakes, of ice To steal the souls and petrify the bodies of any mortal life A disconcerted but enchanted mortal would wander to her form Too entranced to…

evil | stream of consciousness

part 1 Realized and actualized, internalized and sentient: are the evil bodies that float within me really my own? Do I accept them as my own, or continue living as if I were good? Am I good? Prove it to me that I’m not as evil as my most evil thought. Prove it to me,…

reality | poem

In my head, jumping from memory to fantasy, just to pass the time, just to keep me happy and alive. In my head thinking of the “what if,” just to pass the time, just to keep me quiet and alive, a brand new reality awaits me, like diamonds, like dimes, like some new old life…

bliss | poem

sunrise and a breeze, the bliss of their kiss, upon skin covered loosely in silk and satin. sunrise and a breeze, the bliss of the dewy grass under golden flats, the air smelling of crushed roses and soil. sunrise and a breeze, the bliss of the book that sits between knees, waiting to be read…

existence in a vaccum | poem

to be taken to a place, a mirrorless world, to say it clearly, a world devoid of everyone save for I. a place meant for me and the colors of my brain, where busy fingers cannot tousle my hair. the songs of the north and the south are deaf to me, the writings of the…

Age of Ages | Poem

Stone way of feeling Bronze way of reacting Medieval way of perception, rather how we are perceived, Industrial way of seizing (Did we miss something from how we felt and how we reacted?) What is our way now? It is: the expanding balloon of the human mind, the mind we all share if shared with…

crooked brain | poem

I feel it in my head it’s not centered it inches to the left maybe that’s why I feel so… Today I will try to center it. ~ Sammicakes