Monday, June 26, 2017

I closed my mouth and spoke to you in a hundred silent ways.

- Rumi

Friday, April 28, 2017


The night doesn't end. It spills into day and sloshes and stains. I am not an owl. Not a night owl. Not I. I am awake. I curl the pillow under my head, raise it higher. Sleep noisy little head! But these thoughts, really, they are cancerous and never seem to stop. They grow, and grow, and grow, rising like dust, they swirl between these walls, whirlwinds, tornadoes, storms. Stardust? I dream with my thumb. I twist, new cheek kissing pillow piled on itself. I turn, and turn, and turn, ticking away on my bed. Wait a that sleep? Leftover night mingles with bad breathed morning, light unveils belligerent day to cut second hand sleep to pieces. And then, at noon, there is nothing to combat the grogginess of summer and sweat.

So you, too, having the time of your life?

Monday, January 16, 2017


my mind is in cobwebs today.

thoughts curl into questions
and unfurl

as always.

the eye has a blindspot.
the body has a blindspot.
the mind is a blindspot.

perhaps the only way to miss them
is to be at their centre.

perhaps the only way to achieve
is to adjust in failure,
at its centre.

too many thoughts of gain.
so much to lose.

sometimes, sometimes
the mirror of the mind
is a hell of distortion
reflecting blindspots reflecting blindspots reflecting blindspots
ad infinitum.

should i just befriend the spider that crawls within?