Washed in your warm breath
Doubt droplets evaporate
At once, vacuumous
You are all there ever was Read More
I am touched by this shining soul who has written a piece in response to my journey of rape and forgiveness. Honestly, I feel embraced by God after reading Lona’s introspective narrative and poem — a supernatural support I suppose I’ve been seeking ever since writing about that nightmare, the maddening twelve-year healing process, and releasing it to the world; maybe even back to the fateful night itself. I, just one more lost sheep under a fractured and beautiful sky.
So much love to you, Lona Gynt.
Sometimes the very angels weep, perhaps that is what they mostly do.
Editor’s Note: (meow) This post starts pleasantly enough, but I need to warn you that it might be a trigger of sadness or anxiety for victims of abuse, assault, or rape.
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Thank you for writing this, Walter.
Amaya is tonight’s bartender in the Dverse Pub. She asked us to write about a time when a change in our lives caused us to change our mind for the greater good. This person changed my mind and life more than any other I could ever imagine:
I met a ragged man,
Who walked a crooked mile.
Though he was stooped and weary,
I thought I caught a smile.
He was walking down the lane,
Bloody and beat down.
And on His head a band of thorns,
Encircled as a crown.
I asked Him, “Why so cheerful,
When you know a dreadful end?”
He beamed a smile right back at me,
“It’s all for you my friend”.
Half-lotus in cold dark
Flute bursts from still black mountains
Like divine breath
Namo Ratna Travaya…
Homage to the Three Jewels
My song, it comes from within
My song, of birth and death
My song, my center I sing so as to not lose my meaning
Carving its cadences
While floorboards and granite fall away
And the suicide bomber is loved beyond measure Read More
and snowmelt gliss
But I’ll gently miss the deep
When winter’s silent weep Read More
You mark an X
on your chart. Your plan is just an infant,
a lone, whining cry for a bottle of smeared Milky Way.
-Cathryn Hankla, from poem ‘The Palm Galaxy’
Voice like a tentacle grew out from All
Prosodic light named me to be born
Winced, I already felt shattered
Falling into time and a cut/open womb
I squirmed cold in skin and sinew
Heaven pulsated and recoiled into a distant dot Read More
You who have lived many layers of lifetimes overlying just one body. The serious kid who took pride in her father — and her mother, for granted. The college girl with once a head of “dreamy blonde” highlights who spent her restaurant paycheck on $220 Versace sunglasses, a tank of gas, and a bottle of Bordeaux. The fervent penitent who sought God within church walls… Read More
and came to know me.
though I could not breathe beneath
Strata of ages of iniquity;
I was molten below, trying to forego
Prize and price, there and bereft
of the strength I’d had in the Read More
As sky arcs above; Read More