I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free—
Tag: Change
I can not find any way alone (ft. Ryan Hair).
As I go through this journey of life, I can not find any way alone. I need you by my side. I need you to be my true north, my compass, and my guide. Subdued, my dear. Unreeling in the emptiness in limb by limb we are dreaming; the wind howls and endures the body of the crow and pigeon
solitary dream.
the canticle is seen through other eyes,
not mine, and I don’t understand a word,
whispers press
unmourned in your eyes,
the trace of winter
For that is only what we seek.
The roads, the valleys, the ripened dreams in solidarity,
To a handful weaved of a ghost aubade in speech
Evoking contingent flames unmourned, and embraced
As the shaken birth from the morning, I starve the feathered dreams,
As I no longer follow through with the nightlong autumn near the glass,
I hope we don’t forget each other, and that we will remember
The wind that passes through the roots, and the river rocks that sought for better dirt
Morning Snow. (Prose)
I feel the strangeness of the fire arose from the bejeweled brooks, and faded, golden rivers, strung by the heat, I wander as the ocean meets the shore and I go into the peaks of the world
Frail River (A Wasteland).
A lit flame upon the stitched rag of shore,
Which pales upon the blossoms of a winter rose,
I think of a frail dream with Greek souls and song,
That slightly breathed through the muted shore.
Pale to the Wind, I Drift.
I’d laid my hand, pale to the moans of wind,
Wearily drifting; and life is a dark flame
That could make the wilts of flowers wraith
Pseudopsychosis. 