creative writing
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A Pilgrim Without a Map
I walk where no compass dares to turnThrough cathedrals of bone & thornThe moon my candle, dim & grimLit not for saints, but those who mourn No kingdom waits with jeweled gatesNo crown of gold, no holy feastOnly wind that… Continue reading
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Into the Death it Dreams
I felt the flame of wrath arisea holy fire turned fouland in my hands I held his throatmy brother, marked for trial No sword I drew, no gallows builtno poison touched his breadInstead, I chose a deeper sin:to drag him… Continue reading
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The Rope Is Kind
Fail & hang, the rope is kindbut not the end you seek to findNo grave will keep your soul at restno coffin close your weary chest For death is but a crooked doora hinge that creaks, then swings once moreThe… Continue reading
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The Thought That Rots
Cling not to thought: it blooms, then rotsA gilded chain in sacred knotsAs soon as mind begins to graspRelease the hold, unclench the clasp The prayer you whisper turns to rustIf built on dogma, fear, or lustIdeas are idols dressed… Continue reading
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Sacred Fright
In candlelit halls where saints weepWe build our gods on power’s keepsWith iron will & crowned commandWe crush roses with trembling hands But Love, she waits in chapel dustNot in the sword, but in the trustNot in the grasp, but… Continue reading
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The Last Bloom
The roses had withered long before she did. Elaine lay atop the crimson velvet of her ancestral bed, each breath a brittle offering to the air. Shadows licked the walls, and somewhere beneath the floorboards, something stirred and sighed. The… Continue reading
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Each Second is a Universe
A breath in stillnessa whole world begins to bloomthen fades into peace The ticking is softbut inside each quiet beata cosmos unfolds Time is not movingit opens like a flowerpetal by petal Even now it singsthe sacred in each momenta… Continue reading
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Litany for the Devouring Saints
Praise the roads of dirt & drowningWinding through the marrow’s prayerPraise the earth that drinks our hungerPraise the sea that drowns despair Praise the eater, the mouth of heavenAnd the eaten, bone & breadPraise the lamb & praise the slaughterPraise… Continue reading
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She Who Sings Him Still
My song shall not sound cold to himNo, it shall burn through the fog of the moorA darkened chain drawn tight with hymnTo pull him where the black tides pour In my deep wave, he’ll find your hairTangling in seaweed,… Continue reading
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Litany of the Crooked Hands
I start shouting with my handsbut my fingers are bentlike thorns twisted in a crownno saint ever meant Once, they held the holy breadlifted chalice toward the sunnow they clutch at vanished veilsand pray to be undone I tried to… Continue reading
God Is In The Radio 