?

Log in

LiveJournal for Aetius.

View:User Info.
View:Friends.
View:Calendar.
View:Memories.
You're looking at the latest 20 entries. Missed some entries? Then simply jump back 20 entries.

Wednesday, December 19th, 2012

Subject:Rain
Time:6:54 pm.
Late last night I dreamt
that the rain would come and wash
all my tears away.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, September 16th, 2010

Time:3:50 pm.
I found a pencil
buried in the couch.
Where have my words gone?
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, May 1st, 2008

Subject:Sunsets
Time:4:24 pm.
My mother's father
has forgotten who we are.
Sunsets viewed through dust.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, January 29th, 2008

Subject:Things My Cat Has Taught Me
Time:6:53 pm.
Some time ago (just over four and a half years ago, actually), I posted a series of thirteen lessons my one of my cats had taught me.

Last month, I acquired a camera capable of doing justice to the cat in question.

Behind the cut, there is a photo of the kitten as well as links to the lessons learned.

Read more...Collapse )
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 8th, 2007

Time:11:07 am.
This season's windstorm
howling in the hollow tree
echoes in my heart
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, September 7th, 2007

Subject:If David Biespiel Wrote A Haiku
Time:2:17 pm.
The first line would be too long.
"It's roomy and American," he'd tell you.
And then he'd discuss a car.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, March 7th, 2007

Subject:Mockingbird
Time:5:54 pm.
The Mockingbird laughed
as we fell past her into
the Raven's domain.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, May 9th, 2006

Subject:New Orleans Jazz Festival, 2006
Time:10:17 pm.
When the water came
it put out all the fire.
But Jazz lives in coals.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, February 4th, 2006

Time:9:40 pm.
I saw that the priest
was given a few moments
before returning.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, February 2nd, 2006

Subject:A Single Strand of Golden Yellow
Time:12:18 pm.
(In Imitation of Kay Ryan's "A Hundred Bolts of Satin")

All you
have to snag
is one
loop
and the life
unravels
all the way back.
It seems
to have been
a sweater.
There seems
to have been
a pattern.
The yarn
that you
end up with
cannot reveal
it: a skein of
maroon wool,
for example,
several yards
of blue,
a single strand
of golden yellow –
perhaps you
were less
bright than
you imagined.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, November 11th, 2005

Subject:Aurora
Time:7:51 am.
Brazenly her wares
are displayed on the corner
Nameless red flower
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, February 20th, 2005

Time:6:15 pm.
Though the song is gone,
My heart contains its echo.
Petrified forest.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, January 22nd, 2005

Time:10:49 pm.
Soft wind in the trees
rattles leaves above just so.
We ignore our meal.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Time:10:48 pm.
The reflected moon
gleams off of bunches of grapes.
Our midnight picnic.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, November 5th, 2004

Time:5:12 pm.
This morning's sunrise
brought us color but no warmth.
Blue paint on canvas.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, October 13th, 2004

Time:3:08 pm.
Sharp-edged glass fragments:
There are things one should not touch ...
Like broken friendships.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, September 24th, 2004

Time:4:35 pm.
I often dream of
the moon dancing on the lake,
luring me deeper.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, May 17th, 2004

Time:9:17 pm.
No matter how much
change the wind brings from the sea,
mountains ignore it.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, May 4th, 2004

Subject:Shoulder Rides
Time:6:54 pm.
A whooshing sound,
and the world falls away
from my tired feet.

From here, I can reach the clouds!
... if I can just let go
of Daddy's sweaty forehead.

The air is somehow sweeter
when you're not busy dodging feet.

How often I see others,
riding on their lesser steeds -
Of all the shoulders in the world,
my Daddy's are the best.

(And my Daddy never drops me)
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, March 24th, 2004

Subject:He Speaks To Me
Time:8:51 am.
We are the Dead,
he says,
We exist in the Dream,
he tells me,
Do they not say,
he asks,
   We sing no songs for the dead
   We give no gifts to the dead
   For the words that we sing
   And the gifts that we bring
   All mean but naught to the dead.


What is it like,
I ask of him,
being dead?

He says:
It is the moon,
in the water,
being broken by a rock
falling
into its glassy stillness.
We are the moon.
We are the rock.
We are the water.
We are the dead.

I had a dream,
I say to him,
And it was true:
Every path I take
draws me near to you.

He laughed, then.
We are the Dead,
He says,
Ask no more questions of us.
   All the words that you speak
   All the wisdom you seek
   Still mean but naught to the Dead.
Comments: Add Your Own.

LiveJournal for Aetius.

View:User Info.
View:Friends.
View:Calendar.
View:Memories.
You're looking at the latest 20 entries. Missed some entries? Then simply jump back 20 entries.