Monthly Archives: September 2016

Notes From The Unconscious, a poem


Notes From The Unconscious

Run me languid over a rusty road,
and you behind, laughing to pursue…
Take only my smooth love chain,
kiss me softly, without injury.

I am essential and lusty…
I will drive through it for her leg diamonds,
and use him at those bare places.
To sea and gone were the sweet peach thousand.

The blood goddess is frantic…
She knows how hard loving is.
All delicate language has arms of iron, so
sing elaborate love from your tongue.

How have I dreamed sordid roses?
Rob them of a tiny pink eternity….
As bees nuzzle, so shall I dive into you,
and sniff your scent like a mama bear.

A man I used to know lives less than anyone
under wool suits. He rips up rocks
as meat, then he must finger petals.
He has no idea this is happening.

For years, I floated bitter in a black lake…
I said, please, no beating,
leave out the ugly juice,
don’t make me drink any more.

No one listened. My eyes turned
red like woman vision…
I am still weaker & falling,
after death, beauty may ache raw & blue.

He let a void crush what we incubated….
Did it in my white bed.
One milk moan from an infants’
fresh red lips, haunting me forever.
Boil away the mist with lick power.
Heave away or use an apparatus….
Near the TV, these fiddles cry for feet
to dance and obliterate pain.

Our sad summer was like a repulsive
shadow of fluff. I floated like a dandelion seed.
But winter could recall a sweet day chant
with cool water, trips to the country like lazy sun…

Did the purple smear on the wall show size?
Why can the mad beautiful boy shake?
I watch a friend produce a luscious lie.
None trudge after me, but time will swim easy…

Blow your smoky symphony,
my green cloud angel,
and put the sacred blaze against a woman,
melting her like caramel.

Dirt will come and time bring ice,
so heal your broken voice, shed the marble
surrounding you like a deep bone prison,
while I bleed champagne.

Ask your heart to squirm, remember
the ship of spring, seek air blue kisses,
pierce the morning, know the color of liquid
magic, speak in a velvet stream, and love me.


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On My Bookshelf: Natural Color —

Natural Color by Sasha Duerr. Little description: A beautiful book of seasonal projects for using the brilliant spectrum of colors derived from plants to naturally dye your clothing and home textiles. Organized by season, Natural Color is a beautifully photographed guide to the full range of plant dyes available, drawn from commonly found fruits, flowers, trees, […]

via On My Bookshelf: Natural Color —

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Alabaster, Briefly, a short story

Kimberly Townsend Palmer

illustration alabaster briefly

Alabaster, Briefly

After the hurricane, but before the power came back on, Ella went out walking with her daughter, Katie, to survey the damage.  The huge old ficus tree in front of the library had toppled over, its immense grove of roots lying naked, withering now in the sun.  “Nana’s tree gots broken,” the three-year-old said.  Humidity bore down on everything like a weighted fishing net.  The tree had been a twig thirty-five years ago, when Ella was a kindergartner.  She remembered the planting ceremony — her mother, president of Friends of the Library, in a blue linen sheath and white gloves, stepping on the edge of a shiny new shovel.

Now the tree, too, was dying.  The shelter it had provided was still dark and cool — the web of roots from each branch created a division of rooms like a house.  Ella pitied that sodden, gigantic mass, torn…

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How India’s rich, middle class, and poor perceive it’s richest man Mukesh Ambani — Quartz

Mukesh Ambani, the richest among Indians whose wealth is known, often says the same things that socialists and Mother Teresa would say: he wishes to improve lives. And so it went on Sept. 01, during the 42nd annual general meeting of Reliance Industries Ltd, when he claimed that his new cellular network, Jio, would offer…

via How India’s rich, middle class, and poor perceive it’s richest man Mukesh Ambani — Quartz

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Weekly Photo Challenge : Frame ( West Lake 1 )

This week’s photo challenge is Frame. This is a screen window I came across in a building overlooking West Lake, China. The screen is a skillfully carved timber frame which allows sunlight to…

Source: Weekly Photo Challenge : Frame ( West Lake 1 )

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Selfish Love

I wish I’d written this.

Poetry On A Roll

You brighten my heart
like the flame of a bonfire.
But when we try to work things out,
our egos burn the sparks out.

In limbo, I watch us grow cold and distant,
against our best intentions
we cannot work out our insecurities.
Back and forth, we say goodbye
without ever truly letting go.

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On cemeteries, and war….

For centuries, Shi’ite Muslims from across the globe have requested to be buried in the Wadi as-Salaam cemetery in Najaf, Iraq. The cemetery holds the grave of Imam Ali, the son-in-law of the Muslim prophet Muhammad, who Shi’ite Muslims consider to be the prophet’s rightful successor. It’s estimated that Wadi as-Salaam now contains up to…

via One of the world’s largest cemeteries is expanding faster than ever — Quartz

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