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_thecaptainRead more
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 UnreasonRead more
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 […]Read more
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. […]Read more
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.Read more
One breath. The dandelion falls apart, into a hundred new stories.Read more
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 taste as much of the universe as
you can. Here’s to cheap wine straight from the bottle, coffee in the morning with someone you love
and intelligent conversations about things that matter, roses and butterflies. Here’s to escapism, and
new beginning every day. To libraries, coffee shops
and foreign cities where no one knows your name.
Here’s to facing our fears, to all the things, views and
feelings yet to be discovered, yet to be explored.
Here’s to all the beautiful things we will see
and grow to be.
Heres to how I found you,
and here’s to how you found me.”
― Charlotte Eriksson
Charlotte Eriksson is an author, poet, songwriter and vagabond originally from Sweden.
You can find out more about her and her work here.
A poem by Danna FauldsRead more
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.Read more