Monthly Archives: August 2015

Some stream of consciousness


Soaking in the sun the other day,
the pores were drinking wildly, a hopeless exhale of heat.The ears were won by a smell I knew from childhood: my grandmother’s porch smelled of old wood, back in the days when both she and her house were alive…
I felt the blood of grass on my feet,as I crushed their lives in merciless stepping. The garden still held my shape as I had lain motionless in the green ripples for hours.
Birds were passing rhythmically,with wings like airplanes,abandoning the sky for better skies elsewhere.
Looking up, the sharp edges of the horizon aligned like lighthouses,watching over the quiet within the noise.
I slowly exhale until the beats of my heart match the beats of the leaves of grass,before I leave.


Haven’t written in a while…


An orphan dream was standing barefoot
In a corner of the mind.
The roof was leaking
and there were no lifeboats.
Only thoughts hanging
like clothes on hangers
Or bats in caves-
Blind and helpless in the light.
There was a dream trapped in a corner.
Pale blue,with ridges,
So thirsty it barely moved.
Its death was as inevitable as bad weather.



“I cannot understand why you should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry, gray place you call Kansas.”
“That is because you have no brains,” answered the girl. “No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home.”
The Scarecrow sighed.
“Of course I cannot understand it,” he said. “If your heads were stuffed with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that you have brains.”
— L. Frank Baum (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz )