She splits the inky surface, broken glass that mends when She descendsInto dark depths.Queen of algae that graces the rocky bottom of Her palace,A hearth that nourishes Her Kingdom in the rocks. Her tide kisses the shore before the ebb, teasing the sand as pipers scurryIn Her wake.Immense waves crest with foaming mouths as She... Continue Reading →
Deep drum beats and a bass line that Arouses my steps under dark clouds;I skip through puddles to a beat that isMagickal, that only the wailing of a guitar brings.The zealot in me raises her face to the wind,Ice blots the morning apples of her cheeksAnd freezes her to the bone; but there is a... Continue Reading →
Picking wild blackberries,New life abounds in the heat. I had little care of the dirt in my shoesAnd the scratching of thorns on my bare legs as I climbThrough the bramble to pluck and eat, violet stains on the tipsOf my fingers like a fresh kill. I wander still through the thicket. The honeysuckle in... Continue Reading →
A house on stilts in the middle of the woods,A dirt road leading over a hill to reveal salmon pink slatsIn a sea of pine green; a haven built by children of the gulfThat were moved to migrate to the trees. Frogs serenade on long summer nightsFrom a never-clear pond that hides the rushing lives... Continue Reading →
She is an infernoWith flames from Her fingers.Her bones are kindling forHer own fuel.She leaves embers in Her footfalls,Smoke with every breath.Burning bridges and eating the ashes,She grazes on the fields of Her past. Palms that produce white-hot magma, And you harden under Her grasp.She is a wild fire that consumes the hearth of your... Continue Reading →
Stan McShann is a Biblical Man,A self-proclaimed pulpiteer.He preaches on corners wherever he can,So that all of humanity can hear. When The Biblical Man waves his Book in the airHe wants to let everyone know,That even though he claims to care,All of us are going Below. The sole proof he has of our lost lotAre... Continue Reading →
I met a builder in a musky gym Who said — “Two legs of mid-age muscle Stood at yon Mirrored Wall…none could surpass his strength. Hath travel’d through his years, fraterniz’d with educated fellows, Who were majored of finance, and cheery with jolly drink, The man boasts that his prowess hath never waned; The arms that curl,... Continue Reading →
Mysti Gayle 