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Writing

Writing is quieting the burns from people’s thoughts and deeds And dissolving all knowledge that this will ever happen…   Art by Andrea Kowch. Advertisements

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Posted in Invisible stories, Iron Tales, My poems

My name is Green

These are the Unicorn Days Carved in gold and diamonds from the mountains, Molded in solid water from the fairies’ well Sang in choruses by daffodils leaning on the feathered wings of night eastern winds, Claimed by a broken chunk

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Posted in Invisible stories, Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith

Iron Tale

Forest stars gleam and tremble over ancient haggard trees. Stories are locked in hollows. When trying to read eyes dart from the dark blinking of horrors and foul dreams. It takes a lot to follow the rainbow on paths infamous

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Posted in Invisible stories, Iron Tales, My poems, Wordsmith

“Language is not like the sun,
heating and scorching
but like the moon
keeping secrets
and the arcane magic of the night
throwing stars
in the lilacs’ claws
till dawn.” -Iulia Halatz

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