“Silent”
amid ash and fog
there you will find an answer
beware the sirens
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#2275
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Tag Archives: Poetry
#2274
“Dyatlov”
a tent half buried
the wind keens a mourning song
footprints in the snow
#2273
I remember you in the summer:
the heady scent of fresh cut grass
wild blackberries warmed by the sun
eagles soaring high in a clear blue sky
I remember you in the fall:
the trumpet call of geese flying south
white fog tangled in evergreen trees
leaves and pine cones crunching underfoot
I remember you in the winter:
the gleam of bare branches encased in ice
wood smoke drifting on the chill wind
snowflakes falling in lazy circles
I remember you in the spring:
the chirp of baby swallows in their nests
footprints through the dewy grass
daffodil faces lifted toward the sun
#2264
She wears rubies crimson as menstrual blood
And garnets dark as the battlefield’s gore
She is Astarte, She is Aphrodite
She is Ishtar, She is Inanna!
She licks pomegranate lips with a dawn-pink tongue
And between her thighs grows a red, red rose
She is Babylon, She is Lilith
She is Venus, She is Inanna!
#2261
they say “fake it ‘til you make it”
so here I am, a child playing dress-up
wearing my mother Bast’s smile and poise
Inanna’s confidence and Hathor’s positivity
and the Morrigan’s steel spine underneath it all
if I walk like them, talk like them
will I be strong like them?
will I be brave like them?
will I be good like them?
#2259
bury the dead | scorn the living
guard your sovereignty
(Image courtesy of Bane Folk, text courtesy of the Morrigan, tattoo courtesy of Divine Machine Tattoo.)
#2256
these days it is not the dead I fear
(my graveyard sleeps beneath ferns and moss and so do my ghosts)
but the living, those who have not yet had the decency to perish
(so I may bury them in the soft soil and be done)
who instead blunder blindly where they like
and crush the undergrowth in their wake
