The hook is a hold in the rock where I first put my foot when I want to climb.
poetry
Schwäbische Sunset
Creator has put a smidge of pink on the cheek of the sky to dress herself for evening. She does so again in the morning, To cover the sins of the night.
Today Is The New Tomorrow
Crossing the international date line, thousands of miles above the Earth, time bends again We’ve collected pictures like seashells, like river rocks, and lucky coins each, the promise of a dream, an unspoken wish: speak now or forever hold your… Read More ›
Meet The Eye
There’s always more to life than meets the eye. Sorcerers, artists, the criminally insane: they all see the hidden meaning in daily life. You can open yourself to the world’s mysteries or drift through it like a ghost, with no… Read More ›
Care
Whatever pain it is that can only be expressed by killing Grows like a spore, travels by the winds to all reaches of the world. These infections flare up, heal over, get forgotten, recur. The cure is not to contain… Read More ›
A picture in every direction
Up the uneven stone steps, above the valley The sound of the train approaches, then slows The brakes squeal on the tracks, then release: It’s the sound of a sabre that cleaves the valley, the sound of ancient times and… Read More ›
Could
My heart swells at the thought of being who I thought I could “Can” is the operative part of could Forward-looking, or past.
Seagull has the same eye as my dog
Seagull stands on dumpster, this is mineEye is black and round as a stone, deepThe eye is as honest as my dog’s, There is nothing else there
Bill Pearse 