Free Hand #4 (version one) The blood that seeps into Cracks and crevices of rock and stone. Tile, carpet, wood. Painting painting Painting the night with a sweetest, irony Scent. Touch the edge, smear the finger tips. Rouge the red, on the bathroom floor. Parts of you, parts of us all, in the blood On…
Self Immolation [a poem]
A piece I am working on, inspired by the self sacrifice of Thic Quang Duc (1963). The sun set softly in a sea of gold, a hell under the flesh erupted into flames that climbed up the spine, engulfing the head. Enlightenment and flesh boiled in glorious colors that illuminated the eyes of onlookers….
Freehand Poem #4: BLOOD
The blood that seeps into Cracks and crevices of rock and stone. Tile, carpet, wood. Painting painting Painting the night with a sweetest, irony Scent. Touch the edge, smear the finger tips. Rouge the red, on the bathroom floor. Parts of you, parts of us all, in the blood On the floor. ————————————— If you’re…
Movie Review: A Reflection on Fight Club
Hello Readers! I have debated on doing a reflection on Fight Club (1999) for a while now. I know I could analyze and critique hundreds of points in this film but have decided to do a small reflection on Tyler Durden’s Philosophy of Life for today. I found this short snippet labeled with this title (Philosophy of Life) on…
Relationship with Death [a poem]
I’ve been thinking about this subject for a long time now. May develop it into a short story or maybe even longer prose. Not sure. “What is your relationship with Death?” His body was mangled, on the pavement. The engine running high, and smoke began to rise. The blood, it seeps into cracks and…