To be judged by the content of one’s character. To associate with those refreshing souls who dare to ask uncomfortable questions, and listen, not in preparation to be offended, but in order to understand. A view to the East, and morning moments in which to arrive peaceably in the waking world, inspired by dreamful rest….

Day Three: Personal Universe Deck

Hey God! This is my personal universe? but the greatest stillness cannot be taught, and stars align as if dealt from the bottom of the deck three of spades, their names known to those who loved them who cried over their wavering sin queen of clubs, bright as a diamond onstage, singing scarlet gown ablaze…

notions 1: bird song

crows, gulls, and those little guys who fly so fast crank and marfle on about topics well outside boxes, wheelhouses, bailiwicks my languages stake out; they might be talking about territory, it’s the one thing we are sure they do; over my head, some sort of fellow with a voice like a movie sound-effect –…

There is an Onion: Sound Recording 2

So, the hub test-listened, and made a couple of suggestions… here’s version 2. Now, working on the video… Meanwhile, hope you enjoy. Let me know your thoughts.  

Scarecrow Replies

Originally posted on O at the Edges:
? Scarecrow Replies ? This talk of destiny and exceptionalism and the incessant push towards terror inflames my metaphorical innards. Birds may kill, but they don’t practice genocide and never erase history’s missteps with published falsities; their songs remain true. Not so with man. What grows importance is…


heart sinks as wisdom wells up memories stretch, time grows short if, in middle years, we grow another head to watch our back trail, let those new eyes see clearly, the thread that transforms mistake, instinctive thrash, one true brave choice, all of it, into a dance that holds steady; so the forward eyes, even…

Worm Medicine

earthworm, indivisible one, you feed on smaller things what is dead, and what is rotting food of worms, no glory until above you, sky riots with beauty that feeds on your tiny work was it you? st. francis held in his hand, praying make me a channel of Your peace here, this reeking moment, break…

person Daniel Paul Marshall, three poems

Originally posted on ISACOUSTIC*:
Daniel Paul Marshall lives on the island of Jeju, where he runs a guesthouse & bar that he built with his wife. He has had poems published in a few journals, including Four Ties Lit Review, The Contemporary Haibun Online, Underfoot, and The High Window. ∞ A handful of prayers…

Ferocious In the Service of Love

“the heart is our lens for seeing” Raffi Cavoukian In this time of rising tides in this time of shattering in this shorn hair time, where darkness pools; let the blessed black of holy night where mystery holds sway by right again become a resting place, guarded by those who walk ferocious in the service of love….