Words flow as inked fire across pages consumed

Posted: December 4, 2013 in Uncategorized

These last days I set out to catch up on writing and some of it was reformed finished formal schlock and some was raw rumbled roughcut rant and now I am stepping out of the way and letting the blessed ones I serve with breath and blood to seep out through tremored pen-grip to pages found in book I did not mean to carry into this place.

Coming up for air and bottles not yet emptied to spray out to beloved immortal Powers, I fall to knee and wipe smeared ink to face by accident in pursuit of displaced itch and now I wear Their marks as warpaint and go back to write more of Their words in a book I did not mean to carry, and now with similar absent intent fill with smudged scrawled scratches that I hope I can step far enough out of the way of for meaning to hit running with footfalls booted and purposed right and true.


It was Hope that remained alone when the rest of the ills dispersed, after all, into our beloved world.

  1. I didn’t mean to carry a certain book that I now carry almost every time I leave the house (unless I’m not leaving my town/island, but even then I often still take it)…you know the one! 😉

    • The book of books! Yes I know it well. (As well as any sworn go guard it and its contents with one’s life, or the cascading lives of any fool who puts themselves in the harm’s way that is my line of sight might know it, anyway…)

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