The End is Nigh

I stood among thievesAnd asked onlyThat they leave my heartFor the sake of catharsisAnd it seemed that partingWith such a vital thingWould surely be the end of meA bonafide calamity, in factIt was the only organic artifactThat had earned its keepIts meaning too steepTo bargain, forIts absence too deepTo surface, fromI’d somehow become a beeOn […]

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The Ebb Within

Arrested upon the breakers A flirtatious aeration in apex Devours itself in elliptical gasps An alabaster froth that wafts In infinite reincarnate Beneath the taloned feet Of molting osprey Whose umber feathers, splayed Are lost to another onslaught Asunder swells of seraphic saline A chaotic order, borderless Belonging to a meticulous, aqueous body With its […]

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Oceanic Empress

Questions posed Of the oceanic empress My Tropic of Capricorn My southern equator My counterpoint to time Are you, in fact, a woman Or a cliff of obsidian? O, Tidepool eyes O, Music box heart La mère, l’artiste My origami swan My silver leaf frond Siren of the sophora Pouring with words Stirred by keys […]

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Moody Wednesday Music

** Comments accidentally turned off, sorry! fixed that **   Just me diving in and out of the trees…   If you go away then you might as well…   (Imagine making music look this easy…)   With just one glance you tear my skirt…

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mecca

Time bleeds and eventually We become the archaeologist’s dream We become mecca So few ever realizing That we are the discoveries Inherent of a rare planet On this serious earth We are the buried treasures Born of stars and roving eyes Of pleasures impregnable Inconceivable to the ants Massacred in droves With each bare footed […]

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II

Which you Is actually True? And why Are there Two Of you? Are there More Of you In store? Even More Doors Than before? How many Encores Can one Girl endure? Which you Do you Prefer? Which one Is dilute? Is either One pure? Of the Two you That be Which one Is simplicity? Or […]

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Artist of the day: Hermen Anglada Camarasa

My love affair with Spanish, symbolist painters continues…  Biography via The World’s Artist: “Hermenegildo Anglada Camarasa (1871–1959) studied at the school of fine arts of the Llotja de Barcelona, where he was the student of Modest Urgell, whose work influenced his first landscapes. In 1894 he moved to Paris, where he embraced a more individual […]

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mon miroir d’hiver

her eyes are my eyes mountain pine fireflies reincarnate on gilded eucalyptus united for the first time beneath a December sky   her heart is my heart delicate lace valentines palpitations in thoracic tornadoes ignited like dynamite on a winter’s night   her laugh is my laugh golden ray sunshine reverberates in fields of dandelions […]

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never captive

Hummingbirds and their saccharine hearts Fabergé beaks and staccato flight Translucent to the eye of the beholden Lost on a Mankind wildly inept At discerning the language of nature The subliminal wisdom of wings The hypnotic properties of repetition Embedded in the arc of ancient trees Steeped in the nectar of coral bells Kept in […]

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I’ll end you just the same

So has it been decided? Are you my enemy, today? Or should it be so, tomorrow? Et tu, brute? Perhaps it was yesterday? When words kamikazed? From the grandeur and the xanax? Sharpening knives over coffee? Is right now the battleground? Was our love merely a claim? Shall we kiss or draw pistols? I’ll end you […]

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of rambling roses

born in the fever dreams of Degas dainty brushstroke delineations conceived surreptitiously on a canvas of ephemeral linen heavy with striated tenderness in the pallor of blushing brides petite parfum ballerinas their arabesque stems gathered in enormous, trussed bouquets  bespoke of cherubs the ceremonials of flowers an unspoken dowry of buds clutched for the sake of […]

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before this

ignorance is indeed bliss a vital tributary to vanity’s Rhine as he feigned total nescience of my presence, thumbing through random pages of Nabokov assorted stoic philosophy practicing sleight of hand and casually sipping some supposedly-holistic tea lauded by one of his many poor choices some insufferable cunt some forgettable one night stand she was […]

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beloved

be still, beloved you, who beguiled with innate ennui a damsel diminished, as a minor cord you, who bequeathed absent turmoil with tenderness, mercy euthanasia to a cornered vixen you, who baptized debauchery instinctively, carving your initials on delicate branches, of genetic code hostile fugue flirtations, indelibly so you, who brutalized a butterfly with clandestine pheromones […]

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the dangers of devotion

  how does one drown in a room full of familiar faces on an ordinary morning in fluorescent lighting it’s clearly an emergency internally bleeding (ballpoint ink) straight from my arteries staining the porcelain crimson clawfoot swan dive an unforgiving undertow of unforeseen urgency the dangers of devotion the delusion of deserving one last breath […]

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sedimentary sentimentality

unveiled before an invisible audience to artificial applause she was designed to be a monument the indestructible ingénue a pillar made of granite and butterflies she stands tall, a towering ballerina a handful and a heroine brutal and beautiful at the same time a gorgeous slab of stubborn femininity trying to love herself as much those […]

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collateral

  tenderly aging alliterations and other agnostic hypocrisies i used to be a masterpiece but the flourishing of sinews has since ceased my limbs languishing and curves collapse to bitter avalanches every day in a residual state of damage control after all we are our own collateral — a. duncan, 2017

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do rainbows have shadows?

time heals, they said all wounds, conveniently no mention, of the scars that remain, the dreams where he, kisses me and remains, like the scars antagonizing, lingering aching, as they age laughing, as they linger are we actually healed if we are haunted? if rainbows have shadows do scars have silver linings? .. a. duncan, […]

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beauty fades

how difficult it will be when a face no longer opens doors when a surface fades as the moon does yielding to yet another dawn another day kept in the autumnal lines by our eyes, where contusions pool just beneath, like time’s tattoo ink memories and mercury wisdoms and wet dreams how difficult it will […]

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Return to sender

  she was a beveled mirror in a room of crown moldings  a crystalline caveat maneuvering light with effortless multi facet a voyeur trapped in lonesome looking glass  returning all things to sender devoted in reflecting a mundane landscape so undeserving of her brutal truths calmly depicts uninspired architecture the pale rosettes exactly as they are […]

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Buried Treasure – Akiya Kageichi

This morning as I sipped room temperature coffee and absentmindedly marveled at my two year old daughter dancing to ‘the wheels on the bus’, I also did some internet searching for images to accompany various prose I’ve been composing recently. It’s truly fascinating and occasionally hilarious what you stumble upon when you submerge yourself in […]

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