Hey, y’all! Here’s another spoken word poetry video for a poem I had published a while back called “Strange Planet.” The music is from the public domain: Koi-discovery – Electroscope. Enjoy!
(more…)Tag: strange
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I. A Dark Field
There is a field shrouded in darkness. You’ve been there before, though you only vaguely remember it. Maybe you saw it in a dream, but maybe, you were there in waking hours, but it’s buried deep inside your mind.
The field is like this: Cold, completely dark; the only sound is a groaning wind. There’s no moon in the sky, nor can you see where the sky and horizon meet because it’s as if you were blind. Yet, a fire burns far off in the distance, and you smell sulfur. The wind kicks ashes in your frost-bitten face.
You’ve been here before, you know it.
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Dead poets hang
from shrunken trees:
ring-a-ring-a-roses,
a pocket full of posies,
singing dead songs,
lyrical flames ignite
numb corpsesObsolete language from
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skull faces, pensive troubadours:
satchels with free verse,
in a universe
devoid of logicShare this:
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Why do you fear death when
you’ve died so many times before?It was new once and it scared you,
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an awful boom and tingling sensation
up your spine, lights dimmed,
an explosion of impossible colors
tasting like metal and smelling of wood,
leaving you breathlessShare this:
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I search for certainty
my mind processes current events like a calculator,
seeking clarity – aren’t we all?
But once things settle down, the lake becomes still
in the moonlight
things change, get strange
Big Foot does a belly-flop in the cold water
scares the children away
The only thing I know for certain
is that life is constant change
impermanence +
I must cope with uncertainty.
(Photo by Jackson Hendry on Unsplash)
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After reading Franz Kafka’s complete short stories last year, I was determined to read the three novels that were published posthumously. I find Kafka to be a tremendously interesting writer and literary figure, and after reading most of his work, the recurrent themes became evident.
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The people in this apartment complex are so nice!
They smile, ask how I’m doing
I can tell they mean it by their bright eyes,
gentle body language, the way they speak of
this complex as a community.
But why does it seem so strange?
Behind these pearly-white smiles,
are they planning my demise?
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