Shape-shifting nylon; Squid ink begets a world. The hand of God has given forth More than it could possibly hold, A whirling, infinitely faceted creation. * Draped within the illusion, A man remembers.
Tag: poetry
On the waxing and waning of symbolic meaning
Colorado College's Cutler Hall The morning after I graduated from Colorado College, I walked around campus and noticed that the buildings had changed. It wasn’t that new construction had taken place—rather, it was as though some symbolic layer of meaning had been removed from the buildings, their earthen reality revealed. Apart from the purpose the… Continue reading On the waxing and waning of symbolic meaning
A prayer for rain
New Mexico, where I live, is currently swaddled by fires, And so it feels incumbent to pray for rain. * And yet my prayer is not only for New Mexico, nor for literal rain: It is for all people, places, and times, and for all soothing, quenching liquids for various states of distress. * My… Continue reading A prayer for rain
Pillow talk
The things learned beside the pillow of a lover, Secrets told and then made obsolete when relationship ends. * Facts about a dangerous past, An abusive one, About mistakes made, Fantasies rendered. * What to do with such truths when the connection is irrelevant? What becomes them? * Do they live on, Like ghosts that… Continue reading Pillow talk
The strand
There is a strand of light That I have been following my whole life. I know it as a sensation: A pull forward from my heart, My gut, Perhaps from somewhere deeper. * When in touch with the strand, I feel a sense of flow, An intuitive “yes” to what is being offered me by… Continue reading The strand
Jackson Holzberg Buckley 