again and again overwhelmed by tears that do not come heating my face, burning my eyes, stoppering my throat like a cork in a bottle the possible…… Read more “vapour”
Tag: writing
Pores
The world gets into our poresand writes on us lines with the clay ofearth, warmth of sunbite of wind caress ; sorrow & joy clog our faceswith…… Read more “Pores”
Killing Clowns
Empty pages are freakish. Too beautiful to touch, tosully, to fingerprint so casually. They are whole, andthe essence of words, writing,/ breaks that/ like speech breaks a…… Read more “Killing Clowns”
flying by
stark feathers rise in rows from soil soaked by rain a farmer's windbreak --- --- c. Kate Gough
untitled
smoking stacks weary my soul. — — c. Kate Gough Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash
reverberate.verb
I want to reclaim so many words from the INDUSTRIES of today: — Reverberate is a wild, wide, ecstatic word that could cover the earth with waves…… Read more “reverberate.verb”
Constructed
you're \ \ \ so carefully constructed flaunting what you \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ think they want to see \ \ \… Read more "Constructed"
Narkissos
sooty secrets buried in black: bleak as beak. --- windswept wood, wild sweet orange, swan's neck swoops. --- carefully curated, beautiful mind hovers over clear blue sky,… Read more "Narkissos"
Vincent
There are so many people, especially among our comrades, who imagine that words are nothing – on the contrary, isn't it true that saying a thing well… Read more "Vincent"
Grey
https://youtu.be/808nTiXLam8 I’m still in this place. Sometimes it seems I never leave. * Gallery, 2014 Imagine, if you will a gallery piece installed, a row of plants at… Read more "Grey"
The Ever-Processing Machine
I can’t find my incense. I don’t want to write. I desperately want nothing more than to write. For ever. So then, perhaps I’m just a stymied…… Read more “The Ever-Processing Machine”
artless
Oh! to make art, scintellant polished, lustrous a:blaze. Nothing could satisfy more, could matter more deeply than the warmth of those flames, the flight of those…… Read more “artless”
‘If the Furies Should Take…’
‘It is widely rumored, and also true, that I wrote my first novel in a closet. Before I get all rapturous and carried away here, I had…… Read more “‘If the Furies Should Take…’”
Muse
you could be heckler harpy or feind; i may lie derelict here but i draw the open sea to me. ~ Kate Gough, March 2015
Hiccup
I treat my stories like a bad case of the hiccups, swallowing, swallowing, holding my breath ( ) swallowing, changing position, swallowing… Perhaps this is why I…… Read more “Hiccup”
Bread Crumbs
Wrinkles sagging with weariness, Gretel June seated her crooked torso on the last clear surface in the house: a padded footstool. The world swam in complete and terrifying circles around her, and closing her eyes only made it worse. She felt a lump in her throat that had nothing whatsoever to do with her heart, and much more to do with her stomach. Everything swirled so fast!
Ancient, knotted hands cupped a steaming mug of hot liquid, which she blew on periodically, but never sipped…
Truest Confidant
“I never feel that I have comprehended an emotion, or fully lived even the smallest events, until I have reflected upon it in my journal; my pen… Read more "Truest Confidant"
The Only Man
“The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and all time.” ~ George Bernard Shaw (1856…… Read more “The Only Man”
Kate Gough 