dried leaves rustle like fading nightmares, an urge to suck in colors before me
blood and sweat
makes the seed.
“I know you saw something in the light, Tom. We all did. You can’t trust the words of a fucking maniac that tried to kill us—you have to trust what you saw.”
“Think, Lauren. Really think. Why would she tell me this otherwise?”
“To not remember!” Lauren inched closer to him, eyes blazing. He couldn’t look away from her if he tried. “If I remember Clarence at least, then she’s real to me.”
I, a radiohead
I hear peoples screams
live peoples nightmares
water board cruelty
splints under nails
A hyper-sensitivity of feeling
your art connects across the senses
The roughness of ancient bark
beneath gentle fingertips
A kiss from rock-pool water
warm against bare ankles
I put myself in a reality equaled only to repudiation. The world in its deepest corner effused my bone.
think, with all the indentations
in the death bed of poetry
“This. Is. Unreal.” Tom was awed at the things they found inside, and the group dispersed to collect whatever they could. There’d even be a few bags in there, marked with a symbol Tom and Lauren seen before.
Unwanted memories flashed before his eyes, Tom struggling to keep down what he saw. Zara’s demise, Lauren cutting through her wrists, and the writ of the symbols. He swore he could just kill himself from the things he no longer understood, and judging the way Lauren stared back, she may have caught on to a similar realization. There was a connection between all living things, while the dead were used as symbolism for further placement. The encoding and scripture only revealed a partial story of the island, and it must have been at least thousands of years old.
When the siblings’ eyes met, they knew they had something to discuss.
skin on hand
hugged by madsuns
sluiced with rain
on the leafing
On each rock and scree
living in the Appalachian breeze.
This band of amateurs coming after me to carry me home
on sweat-soaked shoulders, shirts cotton, buttoned down
It was an honor collaborating with Devika of My Valiant Soul on this piece.
Boxer, can you see through bloodied vision?
this conflict born from all of Adam’s sons
subterfuge meets necessity in life’s arena
silent to my blood
along the bone garden
I have known the
women, living and dead
The dead die young Ernest Albert Bett
your concrete grave is a trough
with no pigs yet in it
just convolvulus and ivy
For further work, visit QueenMaya Rose on YouTube or her site.
In Memory of Jesse Washington (1897 – 1916)
I am crawling on my knees
rolling in the dust and the cinder ashes
of this tragedy, coals to my feet
Spittle hanging from my chin
my eyes swelling in their shrinking sockets
Awesome sketches by AuAu, one of them including Tom and Lauren of my collaborative novel project, Identify.
They look great, so be sure to give her a follow if you want to stay updated on upcoming work.
The following information below are profiles about the main characters in the ongoing novel collaboration, “Identify.”
I have recently composed an intro soundtrack to the Identify podcast project I’ve been working on. For those that do not know, Identify is an ongoing novel collaboration project that delves into a mysterious island that has different uses for people.