Tag: Reflective

Ancient Stag
September 22, 2025
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| Prose
Hades in my throat, be ware. A splendid stag stands frozen in my chest, if he doesn't summon his devil. He can see you before arrival, you shouldn't bother him with pettiness, what your constant boredom comes up with. Its not our fault you can't fill in the void, not our making that you're mental machines like to stir up the waters, scared to death you might find yourself accountable. My horned animal stands behind me, it doesn't appreciates strangers...

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Omens on the AM
July 20, 2025
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| Prose
¿A flying red demon? Oh no, the scorpion fly, a real insect. He hovers huge and intimidating in the lamps potent glare, showing himself with intention, but for the moment I can only make out the blur of those chopper like, winged layers, and their high pitch rattle. Meanwhile, at the base of the barn, a toad sits unimpressed, shaded in the the damp ground. The week after my odd encounter, a small, greyish, scorpion, landed right at my feet,...

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Stripping Down
June 26, 2025
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| Family History, Prose
Let's get bare, all out, leaving what's true and told, nothing to add or fix. The story ends here, a chapter played to the best of its capacity, nothing better or new will come from it. Cords severed gently, no fuss, loosened knots, we're closing up the tent. Built, used, and spent, we have several humidity stains, a few cracks, and some peeled walls. We're weathered and salted by all of it, and aware: we must complete the other half...

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Paradoxical Karma
April 9, 2025
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| Family History, Homage
Family sorrow is my puffy bags, on my hooded lids, from way back, but it's ok, I'm not stopping. Skin sags under this feeble chin, connecting to pictures in black and white, where poses suppressed their reality, but it's ok, I will continue. Heaviness the sentence of my stance, grinding hip sockets, a weak abdomen, my age suddenly doubled, but that's fine, I am not backing off from their call. Pain throbs in random places, and vague aches refuse to...

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Rite of Passage
January 22, 2025
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| Prose
"Shush"  instructed the winter wind, on a very cold morning. The Sun's familiar hug now weak, his usual toasty shawl much too light over my shoulders, and the steep cool-down made me shudder. I walked faster, as if it were possible to to flee the chill, cutting through every nook and cranny of my attire. My feet soon built up some friction, the promise of a little heat from the brisk movement. My mind wandered off with the same hurry....

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Autumn shades
January 5, 2025
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| Family, Family History, Prose
You’re dissolving, an invisible flame burns the pages quietly in the stillness of your study. Ashen skies glow softly, cradling the twilight sun; soft autumn light drizzles between branches, beyond the sliding window of your routine. You're are fading, while scribbling the usual, at your desk. My body only wants a moment, this very one, no past or future, no history to tell, no projections for tomorrow. In this way I will disappear too, and though you'll remember I was...

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Drive
December 28, 2024
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| Prose
I need only dive in a sea of potential meaning, fish for a description, a new adjective manifest in musical vibrations, from the Avant Garde keynotes pouring into the cabin. So I drive on, protected in a bubble of steel and glass, the inner sea swishes against its walls. Words to give substance, while the horizon turns an angle; the skyline slips behind dull buildings; the ground tilts, and suddenly, this planet might not be as round. I might be...

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Dual
May 24, 2024
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| Family, Verse
He's hellish haven That won't stay still And I know damn well Not one to balance. His lunacy The sane one Discerns the complexities While the other side retorts in haste Laconic disregard of our bond. Soon, Rudeness spills from his sly grimace In the hopes I won't be able to tell If he hides Or if it's just those damaged goods. He's karmic A jailer A jail Too potent for my taste bud But I'm addicted nonetheless To the...

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Time stamps
March 9, 2024
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| Family History, Prose
Time deals differently now. I ask to the invisible ¿have I been dislodged, dug out of somewhere, a matured stone turned crystal? ¿Or was something dug out from me? ¿Is it possible to go backward, find the place where I was brighter, before solidity? Maybe even further back, to the ancestors, in the deepest forests, when conversations happened all at once; trees reverberated voices, whispers emanated as song, before this extraction, when the pit was left bare. ¿Could I sleep...

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¿Did I Just….?
February 2, 2024
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| Prose
¿Did I just realize truth while caught in the motion, amid the rat race, the traffic jam? Did he just pull up his mask and smile? ¿Did light flood the cabin while I stared, at the dented tail of the car in front of us, and what always has been just took a deep breath, and then exhaled relaxed? ¿Did the past just say hello with a real face, no makeup for the show, no PR? I believe she just...

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