by Vivi Sojorhn(c)2024
-
LANDAYS FOR AUGUST Being half-blind does not help a Cloud Surveyor, as the moisture turns loud. Wipers squeaking as they must and all. I’ve an eye for the ice diamonds ball. My puffy coat of steam keeps me warm While I slog for the Cloud Queen’s ol’ Carn. Trouble is growing in our Sky, The Read more
-
LANDAYS FOR AUGUST Empty streets where their names fade,Ghosts of laughter, memories once laid. Once alive with vibrant sounds,now just silence and empty grounds. Fading signs and our crumbling walls,whispers of life’s inner curfew calls. Where the flowing river danced with light,Now that sun set? A new moon swallows night. Maps erased, a vacant space,Seizures Read more
-
LANDAYS FOR AUGUST In every pulse, our hearts entwine, Stars whisper truths through electric lines. Deepest roots reach to broken lives, Nurturing stumps, learning to thrive! Wings spread wide, they chart the sky, By their sides, we learn to fly. At the coffee table, we seem apart, Yet souls entwined, we share our hearts. An Read more
-
LANDAY FOR AUGUST Silent dark in starlight falls a thief,cool as a glass of water, dreams begin to breathe. Galaxies whisper secrets in a fit,each a drop of promise, each without respite. Of cosmic ashes, new worlds are born,renewal in the void, I am storm In the vast unknown, we reach for our gracewith Read more
-
LANDAY FOR AUGUST So many beautiful women over age of the cosmology of youth The compassion of Mother looks out from a Temple of the Crone Wrinkles of wisdom, lovers still in darkness, through winter Mysterious even after blood has stopped running with the moon Worn stories told in rolled papyrus held Behind the veil Read more
-
LENAY FOR AUGUST Trying to eat my licorice slowly, Paying attention to the muscle-y Strength of flavor filing itself In my many taste buds, middle shelf I’m alone usually in my adoration Of the salt, sugar and spices shunned Honestly, more for me, and I Don’t even mind if black Dyes My tongue and sticks Read more
-
Landay 2, August 2. 2024 It’s the campfire we ran around and stood watching sparks in our pajamas. Our parents smoking pot, they let us eat all the marshmallows burnt. Cigarette smoke was my childhood, but my kids will never get it.My dad quit for his grandchildren, I still feel it in my lungs. Both Read more
-
Landay Challenges for August #1 Generational PTSD seems inadequate unless you change “Post-Traumatic” to “Pre-historic-Traumatic” Before the floods, right, we lived with huge monsters and the unpredictable Traumas that were part of feeling helpless down to our protons and unless we Depended on magic or hiding what could be really done to warm up to Read more
possiblissities 