You are first to brace that brazen heat and hold your orbit true. You dare to mingle so closely with the seed of a Titan...
Tag: prose
I Call Him Brother
Raised under the same roof we each earned our names, though I have always called him brother. Children of the sun, sprung from what cultured raised, carved bold under the gold pip of Africa's scepter. The fiery flesh of that mighty watcher colored us with grace, showered our shoulder with the warmth needed to see … Continue reading I Call Him Brother
Jump
There is no one there to catch me, but I would love to learn to fly. My eyes, playing along the loose edges of certainty, cliff faces and curbs, I'm courting a potent notion with intentions of taking flight. A featherless free fall that could grant a taste of freedom. Leap! How fine I'd feel, … Continue reading Jump
Silence
It's a soft cloud that settles after so much rain, after the tumultuous applause of tongues simmers away to allow a mist to claim the room. It's a safe place sometimes, it saves our grace when there is chaos and there are too many decibels to deal with, held softly it grants a respite from … Continue reading Silence
Him for Her
When the sky is all raindrops and fire, I promise to stand with you.
The Fast
Hearty handfuls of everything here and now have well and truly clouded the system. Arteries are thick with the residues of satisfaction. The breath is now shallow. Tasting the sweetness of now has stolen from a true enjoyment of the atmosphere. The peripheral mind atrophies when it's allowed to dwindle in the somber swirls of … Continue reading The Fast
His Fathers Son
It was around that age When young soldiers begin To grab hold of the world around them in hopes of moulding their wings, That he was met with silence. That echoes cackled, Crackling against the walls Of his mother's house, Whispering secrets that speak with The knowledge of a world that Lived Before the empty … Continue reading His Fathers Son
Running With Wolves
The forest is thick deep in the misty black. Footsteps echo among the forgotten leaves, the mighty pines hang boldly over the lair where the wolf pack roams. Never forget the pack. We cut our teeth on the remains of victory. In defeat we concur our inconsistencies. We run to the sound of … Continue reading Running With Wolves
Wake Up Call.
I was challenged by my notion of passion. The thought caught me at an important part of my day, the moment when my alarm wakes me up for the first time. It's always the same, I feel a heaviness in my body, my eyes timidly sip in the light, and I'm met by … Continue reading Wake Up Call.
Passing Time
It's all well and good writing all day, I love it. Spending hour after hour picking apart and piecing together these word pictures. If I could, I would live inside these patiently woven word capsules and never catch sight of day. Words tend to take me places, crazy places where mystery meets magic and the … Continue reading Passing Time
The Blissful Nomad 