For Dwale
#19 of unimportant verse about important people literally no combination of words could ever do dwale justice, but i'm made entirely of compulsions, so i don't really have a choice but to try.
Fragment's of Life's Heart - Transitions
Owen transitions - mog moogle the mistress of tidwell manor - renee carter hall yet time and distance - kris carver polynomials - fever low raise your voice - stefano "mando" zocchi going out - t c powell harvest home - altivo overo the foreigner - dwale
Untitled Poem
We crawl through moist humus like millipedes, Feasting on dirt and dead, crumbling leaves While striped skies cycle through violet hues, While time's kisses take the shape of a bruise. Endeavors wear the warmer years away, Reduced at last to...
The River In The Mist
2 part 2 https://www.thevoice.dog/episode/the-river-in-the-mist-by-dwale-part-2-of-2 i apologize for the formatting.
A Gentleman of Strength
_A Gentleman of Strength_ _By Dwale_ It had been an ill-omened tournament. Ame's train had been delayed twelve hours due to unseasonal flooding, then he'd gotten lost between the station and the hotel. He'd been unable to get a cab and was forced...
"Behesht"
"Behesht" When father died, I cleansed his remains and wrapped them in a sheet, then secured them in a sling I'd fashioned ahead of time. His thirty-five-kilogram corpse strapped to my back, I made the long climb up the dusty steel ladder of the...
Another Untitled Poem
Summer, season of hot insomnia, That much never seems to change at all. Laying awake in the red desert night, I shape woods from shadow and wait for fall. Ten years now gone, and who thought I would miss The songs of crickets, owls and katydids?...
Wishing Well
I remember that one late August night, Watching the moths mob the lantern's amber Light, the summer wind playing with the flame, Your ebon hair, swaying, caressed your neck. I saw you swallow. I envied your spit. You looked upward to the wild...
Gaki (poem)
Still waiting for a taste of something true In the maiden grass, chasing the fireflies, Thinking back on the last time you heard me Drink dew like a hungry ghost in the night. Oh, would that my shuttered words could grow wings And search this...
Poem for my Deceased Lover
Seven days had passed when I heard you died, A missive in the warm morning hours, dawn Rose, and no one said how I should go on, Or ford this moor without my only guide. Flown to space by what callous earth destroyed, I chase the long-flying...
Dirt Garden (poetry)
My garden of foxtails and milk-thistle, Alive and wild, more so than tended rows In growth, has died. I killed them a little, The crab-grass clumps, Datura and nettle. "Time and time, I commit these small murders, To whose benefit?" I ask why and...
The Darkness of Dead Stars
"The Darkness of Dead Stars" It was standard procedure that personnel awoken from cold sleep were granted four things: a bathroom, a caffeinated beverage, a meal and an hour to shake off the cobwebs. Ordinarily the cafeteria would have been all...