Kali’s Song

Happy Tuesday! First day of the week is already done, so pat yoself on the back (I do, it helps me get through)

Here’s a poem I’ve written of late. Called Kali’s Song. It’s based in Hindu Mythology. To get a back story go here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kali

Godess Kali Painting

Godess Kali Painting (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


But, onto the poetry!

Kali’s Song

I wasn’t made from velvet
nor silk, nothing to lay beneath your
head. I was born on jagged rocks
and thrust from the riotous sea,
silver swords for a tongue, grinning
skulls wrapped round my neck. I
will never be your doe eyed Lakshmi,
pulled into the world under Kali’s moon.

I am the goddess of destruction,
slayer of a thousand demons. I will
move heaven and earth for you, my
beloved calm in the storm. Demons
sate my tongue, but my heart burns for
your ice, my veins hot with raging wildfire.

I was not made to smile wide,
born with jagged teeth. And if
pretty is what you seek boy,
it’s not me you seek.

Thoughts, feedback, questions etc are welcome.


For Seamus Heaney RIP

So Labor Day Weekend begins! Where will you be? I’m excited to do…very, very little. Laziness is a 21st century luxury. 

On a more serious note: Seamus Heaney died from illness today. I loved his poetry, and so this poem was born.

You died today.
I met you, once,
my hangover
just above my eyes
as I gulped thin coffee, praying
for my body’s forgiveness.
You rested
on the kitchen table, coy
and silent.
I read you and
fell for your bitter 
perfect for bright 
mornings, love’s lance
and whiskey
biting the tongue. 

And now you’re gone,
leaving only words
and spaces.
Could we sit by Galway
Bay, discussing important
How light hits the water
and children laugh 
through broken teeth? No
longer. My mind 
replays your Irish accent,
my ego wonders: 
what you would think of my 
words, my need for a 
nod or a 

These questions are foolish:
The reaper stole your
My question
mark hangs, waiting for a period
that will never come.

What will you be doing this weekend? Writing/making anything fun? Let me know!

Oh Hey Wednesday!

Half way through the week *slam dunk*. Yeah, it’s a good feeling to get here. I was going to watch the machinist…and then it’s 930. Seeing as I have to be up in 11 hours? Yeah, so not happening.

But, I have a poem for You. Yeah, I was pretty pumped about it too. I’ve been thinking about patterns of late. So this baby was born. I hope you enjoy!

Pattern’s Two Faces
A/N: SFW, Rating: G

There’s comfort in pattern’s
endless consistency: 
the way the sun rises and 
the moon’s changing faces, 
how the tide just 
the shore.

But then I recall,
the way a father rejects
his son, just as 
his father rejected him.
How an 
for an eye 
an eye 
spreads only 
blindness and rage 
through space and time.

Patterns lacking hope
are a night without 
a morning devoid of 
dawn, the horizon 
from the sky.

I’ve signed up for wewriwa *bites fist* so stay tuned for a new section of Hagar and Ishmael’s story 🙂

Work is interfering with my blogging

Faithful readers: I’m sorry. I just started a new job, and well some things have to give. That being said, I will try and continue to post new fiction/poetry/photography here. And I will try to be regular again. But yes: there will probably be bumps along the road. So thank you for being patient, and continuing to read!

Today, I have a quick poem for you. I saw an old house blueprint…and well this came out. Strange where inspiration comes from. What inspires you?? I’d love to know!

Love in the Blueprints

Rating: G. SFW

He left me notes hidden in blueprints,
coded whispers for my eyes to decipher.
His arrows smoothly caressed my fingers,
his sharp lines wooed my eyes.

I gave him my dreams half built,
locked in words and hand gestures.
With only a pencil he translated,
hearing more than sound but the
shapes of my deepest desire.

Though my voice touched his ear,
I never saw his face. Though his
drawings beguiled my eyes, I never
saw his hands. I  wonder what
meaning underlies these coded hints.

My house stands tall now: a vision of grace,
wood shining, windows wide to the sun.
He has never crossed my threshold but
I hear his voice in the walls. Sometimes
I imagine his feet peek around my corners.

Do you drive by in the moon’s light,
watching through the window? Do
you look at your creation or me,
sleeping peacefully inside her?
Don’t you recall that these warm
walls were built wide enough for two?
Or is solitude preferable to you?

As always thanks for reading!

Dialogues and Space!

*Waves* Hello!!! I could have waited to post this… but I didn’t want to. This is a little dialogue piece I wrote. Called Tales From the Edge! Yes the exclamation point is part of the title. You’ll see why

Tales From the Edge!

Rating: PG nothing triggering in this one.

Pretty blonde reporter, Katie Starr sits across a man, Morgan Adams. He is dressed in khakis and a polo shirt. Buzzed hair and tall with long lean muscle, he sits, a bit nervous.

Katie: I’m Katie Starr live with Morgan Adams, one of the three astronauts back from the edge of the universe!

Morgan: (smiles) Thanks for having me.

K: (dramatically) The world is dying to know: what was it like? The edge of the universe?

M: (laughs) You started with a hard one! It’s, uh, hard to explain. Have you ever seen dust through a light?

K: (confused)…yes.

M: It’s like that, except you’re the piece of dust, surrounded by light.

K: (excited) Sounds unforgettable.

M: (forced smile) It was, but my eyes are glad we didn’t stay very long.

K: How long were you at the edge?

M: Well we started to feel the affects of the edge about two months from it.

K: What affects?

M: First off: the heat at the edge means we had to adjust our spaceship to deal with the rising temperature surrounding the ship. A month later,sleep became difficult because it was so bright all the time. We also had to be careful not to go too close, or the gravitational pull would suck us in.

K: (purrs) How dangerous! You must have been exhausted.

M: (Shrug) you adjust.

K: How long did it take for you to reach the edge?

M: About 3 years, there , 4 years back give or take.

K: Seven years! How did you keep yourself entertained?

M: Finally solved the rubick’s cube. (both laugh) No, we had ongoing experiments to occupy us through a lot of it. Nothing too exciting, unless your audience is sub-atomic physicists.

K: 7 years is a long time to be away. What did you miss most while you were gone?

M: It changed over time. First, it was hydrated food. I would have killed for a ripe peach. (laughs) Then it was the sound of my daughter’s voice. She has a beautiful voice, and I missed her singing so much. After that, it was my wife’s smile. Luckily, I brought some family videos, and would watch her just beam at our children. The worst were things I couldn’t carry with me: the wind on my face, and the smell of summer rain.

K: (nods sympathetically) It sounds like it was a difficult experience, being so far from your loved ones. But you had two other men on your ship.

M:  Yes, great men. Ahmed Abdullah and Samuel Isaacson. I was lucky to have them with me.

K: Still, three men all alone for seven years stuck on a tiny ship. Talk about cabin fever!

M: (snorts) Of course. I’m gonna be honest: we had our disagreements. Some of them.. pretty stupid. But, like you said, we were stuck on a rocket together. We couldn’t go anywhere. So we worked our issues out. I have to say I’m a much better communicator than I was before.

K: What else have you gained from seeing the edge of the universe?

M: (deadpans) I learned not to fall over. (grins) Seriously? Perspective. Seven years of travelling warpspeed, you realize how small you are. How small even Earth is. We have all this amazing technology, and there’s still so much we don’t understand. It can be a terrifying realization, but for me, it was a huge relief.

K: (smiles) Something we should all keep in mind. Thank you so much Morgan! (Turns to the camera) Up next: the deadly continental gangs. Could your children be joining these deadly groups? Stay tuned after our break.

Thanks for reading y’all! I’ll have more stuff for ya this weekend

Life and its Complications

Hola chicas y chicos. Sorry to have been MIA, but with getting back from NYC, I haven’t had the time to write or devote to this blog as I would have liked. Settling back in, I now should be getting back to a more normal posting schedule.


Announcement: Like my photos? Want a print, poster or unique iphone case??


I just started a society6 profile with (some) photographs. If there’s any you desperately want that aren’t up there, I will see what I can do (some are too small to put up). Check it out at:


*French Accent* Let us get on to ze art! Mesdames et Messieurs I give youuu not onleee a poeeeem but alsooo  photographs!

Physical Revelation

Rating: PG language, but insinuates adult themes? (It’s SFW)

And I bend before you
fully revealed in the light:
every fold and crease,
every hair and freckle
open to your gaze.
Is this what Abraham
felt standing before the
divine, broken open,
seen fully
for the first time?
I don’t know if I am
a million or one in
your silent gaze. 

(Still I keep a part
closed tight, something
hidden for preservation
against fear’s whispered
future. My mind imagines
sharp words, my
heart can’t help but hear.
I am strong, but oh,
it would be so easy
to break under
your sharp tongue)


Bicycles Cuddling in Central Park



Evening on the East Side

Happy Wednesday! 

Sunburn and a Short Story

Hello! I hope y’all are having a great Monday. I’m currently on vacation (yes you should be jealous)…and already sunburned (yes you can laugh at me). Image

yep this is my view. No lie, it’s pretty awesome. 

So all this time has gotten me a moment to finish a story!

Warning: more mythology, angst, and references to eating children (Greek mythology, not my twisted head ok?). So… PG-13 ish. 

Watching Heaven and Earth

“Atlas…one who knows the depths of the whole sea, and keeps the tall pillars who hold heaven and earth asunder”. – Homer

My legs are weary of the water. It’s no longer cold, but constantly rushes around my legs, rising and sinking around my thighs. My toes have been frozen, long forgotten in dark depths that stretch back longer than memory. Occasionally I shift them, and feel the miles of sand tumble around them. I must move gently, my brothers and sisters lie somewhere in these depths. How cruel, the fates could be, letting my weary feet destroy my own family in the darkness.

My shoulders are tired, although the weight of the sky no longer bothers me. I don’t understand where humans thought I held up the earth. My mother is stronger than any of the other gods. She never needed cradling hands. My hands hold up the heavens. I was to separate embittered lovers, Gaia and Uranus. I was the guard between my own mother and father.

The millennia pass me yet memory stays sharp and clear. Mother once stared up at father each night, and day. Do you remember when he laid with you? Or do you recall the cries of your children, his children, yearning for freedom? Hidden deep in your depths, you could feel them but not touch them. Though once they screamed, only silence comes from the depths. Is that a relief? Or does worry grow like a pernicious weed?

Our conversations spanned decades but you never answered these questions. Now, even you mother, have gone silent.  Do you sleep now, or merely avoid the sky and memories?

The sky is light upon my hands. Uranus’s persistent desire left long ago. Father, why did you never ask for forgiveness? You once stared on at mother’s fertile beauty day after day, night after shining night. Yet you couldn’t see how your pit tore her apart. How could you not feel her helplessness or taste her rising rage? It rose slowly and surely, until only destruction was her choice.

Even still you begged forgiveness for centuries. My arms still ache from when you strained to reach her. Your every atom pressed against me, dying to caress her. Standing guard, you forced me to listen to your songs. Each painted a picture of time long gone: the moment you first saw her; the ways she sighed your name. Had she asked me to simply lie down, perhaps I would have. You sang of love, but she whispered of your venom and selfishness. So I stood, guarding the space between longing and rancor.

If I could have left you both, I would have. I would have long ago. Yet even the strongest gods lose hope. You are so light upon my arms now. Bits and pieces of you left, until one day I realized I forgot the feeling of pressure above me. As you gave up on her, you gave up on us and on our history. Now only thin air remains.

Where have you gone? Do you travel to other, newer lands? You search for lands where time has only begun and stories remain unwritten. There you may be kinder, and keep your eyes wide open. You can rewrite history and say all the apologies too hard to make to Gaia. There you find a second chance. May you find what you seek father, but do not forget.  

King of the heavens, ruler of air and flight, you traverse the universe. You may leave your errors behind. We, mere titans and gods, can reach up into the skies, but must always be rooted to our mother. We see our errors play out. . 

I don’t wish to be young again. We were foolish then. The world was ours and the days full. We controlled the seas and sky. Our mother, ever generous, never left us wanting. The fruit was sweet, the water crisp and cool. We had everything, only the stars lay beyond our reach. With Uranus, newly defeated, nothing could hurt us.

Thus, we believed we would live forever, rule until time itself gave out. We only debated where we would next take our court and celebrate. Eden, those Christians would call it. Perhaps it was. I call it my childhood.

The fates are capricious ladies. They always had the sharpest and most bitter humors. I blame sharing one eye between three. Yet still they had such sight. We were more than our mother’s children, we were our father’s as well.

And so, when all could be lost, we clung even tighter, ensuring our own downfall. Young and strong, we laughed at the one eyed crones. Our own children would not destroy us! Though Cronus laughed loudest, I saw the fear take root inside him. His eyes glittered hard and cold as the distant stars. With their prophesy, our fate was sealed.

Though he swallowed all of his children, Zeus came back full of lightening’s vengeance. For the first time we felt our knees bend, our faces flat against our mother. We learned the feeling of rage’s fire choking in our lungs, burning our insides while our mouths stayed firmly shut.

The last time I saw my brothers and sisters, I watched them tossed into the pit. Rhea’s hair fanned around her as she disappeared. Cronus’s bellows echoed. Yet the sound was so faint and small when it reached the surface.

I was ready to fall into the darkness, but Zeus held me back. My burden wasn’t to lie in the dark, but hold up the skies. I was to be the sign of his victory. He made me watch his rule. But time is gentle to no gods: Aphrodite’s beauty crumbled to dust; Ares back broke into pieces. Yet somehow, I remain. Why? Who am I witness to now?

I fear I will exist as long as time does. The fates cackle haunts me. Only they know my end (or have they too perished with time?). I thank the three crones for leaving me ignorant of my fate. Whatever choice I make has already been decided. Yet this moment is mine.

My arms descend, slowly, painfully. Though I hold my breath, the heavens stay above. Slowly, I begin to walk, rising from the ocean depths. Green warm land lies in front of me. Mother, I will lie in your embrace at last. Eons of fatigue consume me. As I close my eyes, I see only darkness. Wherever I go next, may it be with my brothers and sisters. May my questions meet more than silence.