Abbot Suger dreamt heaven was in the light, yet Chartres escapes me. © Hayden Tyler Church
those black bars going, stopping, the trees’ top’s nearly above the closing gate
Surface soft, the shore lay broken; sonics shimmered, sun-soaken. Briny Bastards' minds that emptied frightened phrases: sundry guised to leave the Bastard brain and hand in morbid subject; songs to lauded lands, from stationed hands that scrawled in memoirs made of hardened peach pits -- a shell to block the brine beaches as paper trails … Continue reading No Wave I Know
One day and the next, I’m ready for it all to rush my way and hit me in the face and bounce around a corrugated room and introduce tinny waves of selfishness to the outside world from my world that only knows what’s inside it. Yesterday and the next, I’m ready for it all to … Continue reading something crumpled
Tabula rasa (n., ta·bu·la ra·sa) mind wiped clean, lacking nature seeking for nurture
Today, I take on the monumental task of waiving the ego.
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