DAY 65:

DAY 65:

DAY 59:

DAY 32:

My poem is featured on Silver Birch Press! Check it out.
Ajar is a sacred word
by Alicia Austen
Ajar is
a sacred word
now
that it is necessary to be noncommittal
Houses stand
erect and
old
shut like
fists
except
where breezes enter through open orifices
and private sounds
escape
above empty sidewalks
Looking out
from my armored entry,
I close my eyes
in order to picture what I do not see—
people walking past
wheels moving
a mass of
artificial
colors
flickering in sunlight
Is this why we–
periodically–
consecrate the mundane?
Does strife
imbue it
with special powers
until
it shines like
molten wax?
If a neighborhood is an entity—
silence anarchy—
what is humanity,
but a movie projected at the wrong speed
one step ahead
or
behind
reality
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I write things as I see them, which means avoiding the literal at all costs while embracing oddness, layers, and complexity. My goal is to…
View original post 58 more words
Thelma and the Sleaze are coming for you Gunning down the highway With guitars in their eyes, like stars Bigger than life Full of that '70s swagger B-movie queens on the rise Heading to your town Gonna take it over They'll charm your women and drink your booze Yeah, these chicks do it up right Night after night on the stage Leaving nothing behind but your dreams They won't stop Even when there's nothing left to give Gonna conquer the world while you weep Bigger than life Full of that '70s swagger B-movie queens on the rise Thelma and the Sleaze are coming for you Gunning down the highway With guitars in their eyes, like stars
“It is only when we are aware of the earth and of the earth as poetry that we truly live.”–Henry Beston