Fire for our belly Smoke for our breath Ash for our heart Great burning subtraction Wild loss combustion machine Coming Coming Eating it up And finally in sordid stillness in abject silence gifting us this collodion-black negative of all we had. — Ian Miller Featured image: @ryno_thecaptain Continue reading burning lesson
Everywhere around me the birds are waiting for the light. In this world of dreams don’t let the clock cut up your life in pieces.Jim Harrison from Rumination Songs of Unreason Continue reading Songs of unreason
Happy birthday to my dad today! Love you. And a hat tip to Phil for this poem: The story that could be true. If you were exchanged in the cradle and your real mother died without ever telling the story then no one knows your name, and somewhere in the world your father is lost and needs you but you are far away. He can … Continue reading The story that could be true
Awake. For a while now. … Counting out callipers between the PUNCH-LIGHT … that chalks the bedroom in a Blitzlicht flash. and and and BOOM —- shaking the earth. rolling out thickly to the north. … Then it comes. leeward slanting rain stings on windows rattles in gutters I can feel the thickness of it. Pushing down in heavy trashcan chords. … The dog snuffles … Continue reading Night Storm.
My dog lay silver In the silver sun Belly up in absent trust. … His lupine paws in sympathy with dreams of chase or being chased. Continue reading Dog Nap.
One breath. The dandelion falls apart, into a hundred new stories. Continue reading Endings.
“Pack light, Throw your keys in the river and cancel all your contracts. Grab a guitar, bring your best friends and hit the road. See the world, taste the ocean and feel the concrete under your bare feet. Play music with no witness but the moon, with no concern of who’s listening or what they think. Dance in the rain, sleep under the stars and … Continue reading Pack Light.
Jack Kerouac (1922-1969) was an American writer who was heavily influenced by travel, spirituality, poverty, drugs and Jazz. The following is an excerpt from a letter he wrote to his first wife in 1957.
