child

I was born in the thunder birthed to the whip of the wind my father was known as the weather a cloud was my mother the womb and I would ride -saddled- the storm bucking the blitz strikes of lightning raining on earth down below I am cumulous I am cirrus I am the feather … Continue reading child

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a small cartography

Poem #77 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction the map of the world can only be drawn in dreams a cartography that sketches who you are where you have been where are you going the paths of the spirit fade … Continue reading a small cartography

unseasonal snippets

a soughing wind slides by muttering susurrous hints and secrets buried beyond hearing within the prolonged hiss of its passing secrets are a cold confrontation suited best to the grey and cloud of winter but here they are insinuated like chill galls under the skin of midsummer night by a slithering breeze that cares not … Continue reading unseasonal snippets

…of a cloud

the sound of a cloud is a lash of the wind singing treble in high registers the sound of a cloud is three birds frantic fleeing the storm that boils close behind the sound of a cloud is a rain .............................'.......''.........d .............................................................r .............................................................o .............................................................p striking another rain ............'..''........d .............................................................r .............................................................o .............................................................p striking rain ........................'..............d .............................................................r … Continue reading …of a cloud