My writing called bring a return metamorphosis answered beating its wings drying the flow a seasonal cycle fall into spring in a jar once of Play-Doh six months an insectarium transformed a living statue a bathroom constant awaiting a vernal spark life parsley wilted dried…
Sex upon a Vine
Seed of my hands Red fruit of my toil A child of my lands Umami bred of soil A poison apple forbidden flesh a stained chapel in wedding dress Woven heirloom culinary ring born of June bloom my pasta’s king You’re sugar and sweet gob smacked bitter acid in mince meat sour before the heat…
In the Hemi-Light
Dette landskab ligner en hemmelighed That landscape lingers in hemi-light fordi floden ikke ses Feathered blood inks the skies fra det sted, hvor jeg befinder mig. frosted showers just behind me Og derfor er det også Embossed air that scars det landskab, hvor jeg lettest The landscape — hovers weightless ville kunne undvære mig selv….
Water Returned
A snowflake is an iceberg fallen into a warming sea an iceberg is an ocean wave melted on the plastic shore an ocean wave is a hazy sky pressing the humidex high a hazy sky is a raindrop running on smokey cars a raindrop is a river rough washing an empty salmon bed a river…
Swallow-Tails
Like a ribbon of verdant grass curled around my finger I remember my youth of running barefoot through the grass and clover chasing the flight of butterflies over Okanagan air like the wind whispering love to the tail of a dancing kite pale sulfur sails panel the blue as long crooked legs come alight upon…
i see
i see — with the light with each season and my mood, i see differently — my eyes change with the afternoon with the wane of the sun the see a shimmer of skin in the shadows of a a candle my eyes alight inside the twisting fire but in a lens they blink and…
Writing Snowflakes
whatis it liketo writeSnowflakesout oflife? All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck …. more of my original Poetry on EatsWritesShoots here.
My Phantom Limb
A phantom limb I feel your pain gone and dead. I walk with a limp now four years a broken limb ripped from my trunk weathered wormed worn gone and dead. A limb warm still beating and bursting golden into a sky ready to burst with tears still rustling through my fingers. A limb that…
Sunset
With the waning, the closing of the day I fight to hold onto the dying light Watching sun burn quiet into a star Strength fading from hot white to cold black night Lost in transformation, my faith is found In tranquil treasures of a changing sky Gradients radiance burst hopes aglow Rusted, reborn, recast, regenerates…
Mother Earth
Rape our Mother Consume her tomorrow’s son Suck her spirit dry Invade your vampire virus Hungry for today Disown our geologic history.” All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck See more of others’ submissions to the Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge on “Earth.” … and more Poetry from EatsWritesShoots here.
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