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    Lanterned Script

    In rows of flame and paper breath,each lantern shares its prayer of ink—lines like drifting blossoms burn,float above all hush in evening. The kanji whisper lineage and truth,echoes of artisans in poem;illumine lines black on white,each glow in the know...

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    • I felt that last stanza like a sigh. This is beautifully written. Good to see your words on the page again

    • This is why one must travel. The doorway into inspiration while being surrounded by the culture.
      Japan is on my son’s list , mine too!
      Thank you for sharing:)

    • We remember you waking crazy hours to work in the early morning hours, and this isn’t written to sound like we shared the same bed. This is just something we remembered from DUP. We’re still drooling over all of your travels, but to read you is a trip within itself, tight.

    • Such beautiful imagery–the lanterns feel alive, carrying both memory and impermanence. The poem glows with quiet reverence.

    • Beautifully penned, S. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Golden Fracture

    Golden Fractures A Kintsugi Meditation “The world breaks everyone, and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.”—Ernest Hemingway A vessel once whole—now more itself in breaking.Each crack lacks any confession,each seam gleams ever auric,paints sorrow with gold. Fracture becomes scripture,glazed in the...

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    Poem Noir

    I have come so very far...just to delve into some poem noir,where everything is black and white,within this gray ambiguity I write. Given my most shady history,I have lived a life of mystery,more than enough to fill this page,penned down...

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    Inkless

    It seems so often, within the night,I am set adrift, unable to write,for a want of any reliable ink,as I converge upon the brink. While thoughts and feelings swirl,my life passing by in a whirl,so yesterday becomes my tomorrow,stuck on...

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    A Setting Dawn

    Funny how I do feel like a pawn,before this now setting dawn.Each day over before it has begun,eclipsed by a forever waning sun. Just another creature of the night,sealed in tight within the write,treading water in all of this ink,struggling...

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    • Dear S.
      Oddly, this poem made me hopeful. I don’t even know why. Maybe this; I know you worked well and hard to make this poem and while you were doing it, you may have felt it relieve your sorrow and emptiness. Am I wrong? If I’m lucky, when I’m low and have the freedom to write, if I’m not put upon by some duty or demand and I find few words to write, it frees me a bit from my palatable discord. Is this it?
      Thanks for writing this.
      Jim

    • This poem gives me a feeling that the writer is tired but will continue their plight on putting words on the page. Nice;))

    • Powerfully penned, LDF. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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