Garden of Night (a prose poem)

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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Long, Strange Decay (a poem)

Dead poets hang
from shrunken trees:
ring-a-ring-a-roses,
a pocket full of posies
,

singing dead songs,
lyrical flames ignite
numb corpses

Obsolete language from
skull faces, pensive troubadours:
satchels with free verse,
in a universe
devoid of logic

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Strange Planet (a poem)

Why do you fear death when
you’ve died so many times before?

It was new once and it scared you,
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 breathless

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Uncertainty (a poem)

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)

Book Review: Amerika by Franz Kafka

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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Beware of the Apartment People (a poem)

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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