Novel Collaboration (“Identify”): Chapter 2. Who wants to write Chapter 3?

Here are the guidelines and rules if you are interested in participating in this project: Leave a comment expressing direct interest in writing or claiming a chapter. First come, first serve. You must comment your interest in writing a chapter. If you, however, send in a chapter without expressing interest beforehand, the submission will not be accepted,… Read More Novel Collaboration (“Identify”): Chapter 2. Who wants to write Chapter 3?

ii.

i. black coat / I see death / in the moon / and hawks nest / one worm / New York drinks the flowers, I could imagine, if I ever had a dream it was not like this / bone split open and blooms / ii. it’s the snow, it’s the / cold / two… Read More ii.

Worst Sentence Challenge & New Collaboration Project. (Challenge Ends in One Week!)

Hello everyone. Remember that poll? 🦗 …With the collaboration and challenge topics? 🦗 Well then. This is awkward. To recall, we had a poll to vote on for the next collaboration or challenge project. The topic that polled the highest was the worst sentence challenge. What else was interesting were the topics that tied in… Read More Worst Sentence Challenge & New Collaboration Project. (Challenge Ends in One Week!)

I

I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free— I am the thorn of flowers in your mouth, and the foot of the leaf between the limbs of a small tree halved like quarters, and still dying, I, memory, I, a membrane and ghost meronym to memory and free— Ancestress of loss… Read More I

Five A.M.

my own deathvineyards of moons,a shallow depthof the sea, Venus sinks,I drowned and criedin my sleep, died like the ocean,born in splitminds,like the magentaof mother’s womb; a vortex of nothingfair and bonyfor the ghostof mine does not grieve these amputations of mind;absence of the moon’s bare-bones, I see the lizard limbsof the moonrise as I… Read More Five A.M.

street art

death / split bone / a fish vomits / dream; heir or heiress, the yellow trees are fatherless; I remember the troubadour trees and their infant skeletons his blood to each leaf no seduction of the moon when there was no moon to run the drumming of tree molars and the caw of moon-eyed birds,… Read More street art

Ocean to Ocean.

Ophelia flowers leaving  to the excessive  blindness by the fingernails of psithurism, and trees that inherit the blood red; ankles sink into the ocean stars come to the end of light—the angry light that feasts  beyond the last bone from the tree, and dark waves beyond the terminus of the skies familiar in graveyard shifts… Read More Ocean to Ocean.

A sea becomes.

Of one memory, one for the end of the dark does not lie, I will not lie in it; darkness perfused I shut the window; here he bleeds, here he lies, though nothing is there. In furrows, mercy, it is laughable. The Earth succinct in waves in a lonely larva the dead poet’s dreams. Stand… Read More A sea becomes.

earth’s red.

in a ghost of the moon; archaic dreams cross the ocean; idled mind the hawthorn spume and Earth’s red moon, estranged to the headstone fare to ash-heaps and dissociation down the bones of beanstalk and the ghost, the moon, reddened mirrors of ourselves to feet of God, light lies to paralyze the Earth, an insect… Read More earth’s red.

moon.

in the echoes to the moonrise and flowers  they look like hand-bones, eclipsed into cursive cold-blooded writ; lucent dream a pilgrimed father at the seabed of darkness, his bones touch the skull-fish; the ghost of owl forgets his repetitions it holds its wings into the winter moon blood-red, it rooks the dying and the tree,… Read More moon.

trees and trees.

a foot, a foot eddies in the water; an albatross is glued to the sea with dark littered eyes and the keel sea swallows its feathers in the furrow of air, mouthfuls of offal red, red they eye, then eat; then the womb in cold echoers echoers of blood, blood sleep such a last trawling… Read More trees and trees.