Today I came downstairs for breakfast and just as I was about to pour the cereal, I noticed something on the kitchen floor. Inches away from my toe, lie a bee. Instead of instinctively backing away, I just stopped and stared. It was not moving, rather sleeping soundly, with wings at rest. Some sort of foreign emotion stirred in me and I was compelled to pick up the frozen critter. Then I proceeded to go outside to the line of the forest and place it down with care. For it once was a living part of the Earth and, while it would have caused treachery upon humans with the threat of a sting, this simple bee existed. That must count for something. It was when I got back inside that I started to shake. Probably many reasons why.

I smiled, poured my coffee, and sat down to eat my cereal. 

subtlebones:

We strip ourselves from
the rest of the world —
fold our bleeding pages
over our feeble knees
and whisper to the one we
desire instead of
thanking God.

We hear the cries and
reply with somber assurance
that those in pain are not
the only lonely dwellers,
begging to dream.

But we close our eyes soon
enough and watch the
skies twirl above our heads —
knowing we’ll scribe the
pictures we see behind our
harrowing eyes tomorrow.

lunch-poems:

from Jorie Graham’s “Scirocco”

Daughters of darkness
Sisters insane
A little evil
Goes a long, long way

Daughters of Darkness

Halestorm 

In how many times

in how many lines

could one give 

what you need

No poets grip on reality 

is subtle 

grand dreams ignite 

the heart 

how many lines would it take 

to win

to win the race of life

to win the merriment of souls 

to cover the insanity of a dream

endless

like the river Styx 

if attempting to touch a heart 

lines will remain infinite 

The day after the rising of a storm 

how calm the water 

how calm the sea 

that flows into the heart

only the day after 

beauty was cast out of hiding 

and into the flaming sun 

a storm erupted

twisting and turning a sailor’s grip on reality

a sailor on the shores of the fallen

on the shores of the mist

the day after the coming of a storm

how swift the minds chase

chase love with fake daggers and tender touch

to pierce the desire that erupted

once from

that storm 

obsidiansparrow:

I feel you near me,
The tension grown.
Walk down this hallway
To Fate unknown.

Reach the end
And there we’ll find,
Fate awaits us
With wings of white.

As darkness descends,
Left by Fate alone,
We stand ready
To face the unknown.

You load your gun,
I grip my knife,
The obsidian sheen
As dark as the night.

One last look,
To say goodbye.
One last look,
In case we should die.

beautiful