Capital

you reach out a hand to pull sky down the stars, yes the heavens themselves are but bread to you, so break it, break it all upon the ground, shake this broken universe until it begs for release from the ungodly bass of your voice; your ego polishes its own brass to trumpet a truth…Read more Capital

Pores

The world gets into our pores and writes on us lines with the clay of earth, warmth of sun bite of wind caress ; sorrow & joy clog our faces with our insides, the experience of our lived Grind:connected. Existentially, we are slow-born sculptures that tell of a daring hand a fiery eye, laced with…Read more Pores

theMechanics.Of:ceratlone —

(Or Tolerance, in the common tongue) No one can be commended any longer for instilling values in others – least of all the young and impressionable. We used to think it was right to guide others or to advise them in times of confusion or growth, but we now realize that this was intolerant. No…Read more theMechanics.Of:ceratlone —

Earth

a dusky-green hilltop at midnight, on my back in prickly grass, gasping for air, and wiping the sparkling sea out of my eyes i feel the evergreens sparsely gathered here by human hands are buffeted by the same inexplicable winds of indecipherable whisperings, the grass shivers in silvery expectation. there is a single star in…Read more Earth