Reflections 2

Living amid these concrete colossi
for too long
I have watched the stars
obscured by their yawning silhouettes
never does their fire
reach the depths of my heart
I yearn for my spirit to launch
from this pallid haze
scattering the horison
with the embers of a skyrocket
and the shrapnel of broken shackles
to leave this world behind
shed the pain and regret
and the heavy weight of “might have beens”
to return to the heart of a star
my elements would once again be whole
and never again would I dream
of home

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Reflections 1

I name her Angel
with a captial A
like you do
when you write the name of
God
though there is no reason
she should show the world
such compassion
no reason
she should grace the mornings
with her smile
she has every reason
to slam the door
on this existence
every reason
to turn her back
to the setting sun
and make her home among
the thunder clouds
yet she stands in the light
and offers me her heart
I name her Angel
with a captial A

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The Candlemaker – Lois E. Linkens and Eric Syrdal

Such an amazing soul to write with. Lois has so much talent and beauty in her words. It’s an absolute pleasure, always.

My thanks, Lady Linkens.

lois e. linkens

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Shifting, ragged cloth

A funerary shrouded sound

Her footfalls bring dust

Hard and grey

From the cemetery ridge

Cheeks, streaked in salt

A patchwork of wrinkles

Her breath in grieving gasp

Dry and thin

Smell of evening invades

Fingers, knuckle bone dregs

Sepulchral grime under nails

Tangle and cling to life

Tremble and shake

All for the want of an offering

Back home, the blood has pooled

And the sheets are soaked.

Raspberry leaf, fenugreek

Linger on his jacket furs.

His boots take him –

The priest with his sad, kind eyes

And black book

Await. A cold blue face, like dough.

Purple lips and running nose.

That was bottled Hope.

Better fetch it, to be sure. Fetch the Light.

And by its amber glow,

The last gold leaf of autumn,

Lift cold palms to the unknown morning.

Frankincense, to ease the needless scars,

Oily hands shine in the soft…

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Cartography…

My latest on Whisper and Roar. Dedicated to my amazing friend, Christine!

Whisper and the Roar

maps “Map” by Song Yueran – songyueran.artstation.com

She looked again
but she could not find her
not on this scraped and scribbled parchment
not here among the faint ink lines
that denoted landscapes long forgotten
hills and valleys
that were worn even by the winds of time
though she continued the search
for the she before her
the paper oracle in her lap remained silent
it would breathe no word
of the whereabouts of this woman
the she before her
the one whose locks
were not of ash and peppered coal
she whose mane
flowed like an ebony flame
and how often through the gold of a crown
it hung in the salt air
aloft on her shoulders
before they were pauldroned
and framed in steel
she who walked amid
daisyed fields
and through the shade of willow branches
in the sun-swirled breezes of early march
and knew no particulars
of…

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Saved…

Trust
not in the etherium
not in the seeds of a dream
buried beneath rotten earth
the creak and wheeze of years
gone past
the centrifugal force
of this world separates
the impure
casts it to the edges
of her heart
where it gathers
like the pools of midnight
in her hair
she
superheroine
of my soul
how fortunate my life
finds solace in the embrace of her fingers
each digit
a pillar of god
beneath the temple of her eyes

 

photo credit: @ambierrichards on instagram

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Indie Blu(e) Publishing Announces the Release of We Will Not Be Silenced

An honor to be part of this piece of power and strength. Please consider purchasing a copy. By doing so, not only could you help yourself by understanding the emotions and points of view behind those who have experienced this first hand…but also you could help someone who is desperate need of assistance.

Indie Blu(e) Publishing

We Will Not Be Silenced: The Lived Experience of Sexual Harassment and Sexual Assault Told Powerfully Through Poetry, Prose, Essay, and Art is the brainchild of Kindra M. Austin, Candice Louisa Daquin, Rachel Finch, and Christine E. Ray. The four indie writers and survivors felt compelled to do something after the strongly triggering Kavanaugh Confirmation Hearings. Ultimately, they decided to advocate, educate, and resist through art.

They opened submissions for only two weeks to women and men around the world. The response from writers and artists was overwhelming: the final anthology includes 166 pieces of writing and art from 95 contributors around the globe.

The editors decided early on that this was a project of passion and compassion, not profit. 70% of the royalties raised above the publishing and promotion costs will be donated to organizations that provide services to sexual harassment and sexual assault survivors. The editors have prioritized…

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Ms. Georgia Park We Are With You

Take some time and read. Donate if you can.

Sudden Denouement Collective

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Sudden Denouement is a community of special people. I don’t know if we would have made it without you. Collectively, we are working on how to be of assistance to one who has brought such joy to people all over the world. We have your back. More details will be forthcoming on how we can help be of assistance to Georgia in her time of need. Material things can be replaced, luckily you and your dog survived. Our thoughts and prayers are with you.

Jasper Kerkau

UPDATE:

We have established a GoFundMe for Georgia to help her right now as she has lost the majority of her belogings to this fire. Please do what you can to donate and if you can’t, please share our GoFundMe

A number of SD collective writers and members have stepped up to donate the next 3 months of their royalties to the rebuild efforts…

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Tattooed – Eric Syrdal

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Screenshot_20181024-084822_ChromeI want this…

want to spend hours
reading the pretty pictures
on your skin
The stories they tell
of the landscape of your heart
and the arcane protection
they provide your soul
teach me the language they speak
the syntax they manipulate
to strike flame from open air
and rain down raw beauty upon my eyes
my tongue hungers to read you
like a blind man
your goosebumps will be my braille tome
though I shall work for minutes or hours or years
to produce this involuntary response
to feel a shiver run across your aphrodisian arches
close my eyes and feel the difference
as I wander the fields of your body
explore the smooth and sweet
interrupted by the warm, wet and salty
your sounds will be my sign posts
and will satiate my ravenous soul
on the poisoned honey within your hollow bones
though I shall return
time…

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Book Review: Eric Syrdal’s Pantheon, by Mariah Voutilainen

Humbled by such a wonderful review!

Indie Blu(e) Publishing

Eric Syrdal’s Pantheon takes readers on an epic journey through time, space and emotion

By Mariah Voutilainen

As a keen reader of sci-fi and fantasy novels, I was very impressed by Eric Syrdal’s Pantheon.  For me, the title alone recalled deities of myth, promised encounters with larger-than-life heroes, and set up an expectation of sweeping verse.  Syrdal, a self-proclaimed romantic and sci-fi and fantasy enthusiast, does not disappoint:  He deftly weaves a tale of adventure, his protagonists crossing paths with virtuous Goddesses, who coax them toward their destinies.

As I read the first section, I worried that Pantheon was a little too heavy on the usual themes of fantasy and fairy tale:  Warhorses champing at the bit, armored fighters, swords at the ready, the proverbial dragon looming over the embattled heroic Poet.  Despite this, I continued on and was glad I did, for Syrdal quickly demonstrates that his story…

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Ally…

when I first met her
it was on the road to our homeland
the sun shone bright
and the birds sang praises to the gods
she and I shared words
of beauty
written on the pages
with our blood in the ink

when next I met her
she cupped her hands
around an ember of my heart
and breathed courage across it
a flame danced and flickered
in the dark of my doubt
and so lit the way for my dreams to walk

when last I met her
it was on the road to war
I stood by
as she leaned upon a shattered fence
I attended her wounds
while she caught her breath
and it was my honor
to hold her shield while
the pain of battle ebbed
in her weary limbs

and while tears dried upon her cheek
I renewed my oath
and I
will walk with her
toward home

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