Objects, and the Distance Between Them
Dreams, thoughts, and experiences expressed through poetry and prose
For those days. “We Feel in Waves” – Recorded 11/07/2022 – Auroraboros – Objects, and the Distance Between Them We feel in waves. At times, they lap at the shores of our heart, cool and calm, manageable. At others, they crash loudly, roaring and pounding down upon us, threatening as they do any semblance of … Continue reading We Feel in Waves
The fifth in a set of NINE. Artwork generated by CrAIyon (formerly DALL-E mini). "8/fold" - Recorded 06/25/2022 - Auroraboros - Objects, and the Distance Between Them 8/fold expanse ofWhat is God, if/than Love?Loss and life,Sky and falling like the heat before rain.Cutting like a good knife;Darling,I would,To eat your pain. What a laugh,A belly-ache and … Continue reading 8/fold
For... "All the World" - Recorded 2/15/2022 - Auroraboros - Objects, and the Distance Between Them On another Sunday,Evening or early morning,Risen myBody,Still warm and yet empty,Still calling, calmly now,For you,Beaming eyes likeThunder and a crash in the distance.There is a color and it is Not Grey.Do you remember the knocking?Terror and remorse,Then a sudden … Continue reading All the World
In Tehran, There is no hope, "A living hell" So they say on the TV box and in the pages filled With so many carefully chosen words. This is fine, Really, To be expected. I mean, Tehran is not in the United States, And that is just what happens When you are not in … Continue reading In Tehran
The words spill out from time to time Like blood from an open wound Dark and thick against the backdrop Of shallow conversation There are terrors worse Than those we face in the waking world Horrors that haunt The empty moments The spaces between The noise and the silence When the pounding in our ears … Continue reading Like Blood From an Open Wound
Locust harp The swarm it sings One million wings So many strings Playing sweet With bows for feet Their symphony Locust harp Black skies for days Insect arrays Falling in waves Descending down Like rain from clouds Towards the ground Locust harp The fields are dead The streets run red The swarm is fed And … Continue reading Locust Harp
Not a day goes by That I do not think of you In the small moments As well as times of distress You are a sun to light my path Not a night goes by That I do not dream of you In vivid visions As well as in night terrors You are always by … Continue reading Not a Day Goes By
Objects, and the Distance Between Them 
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