Poetry | Stories | Photography
The clowder of British Shorthairs approach from the rear; they wait for the end lapping milk.
The Persian cats take a direct approach and enter from the front. They chew on beef bacon.
The Russian Blues maneuvered: radioactive temptations dropped from the air.
THE BEGINNING The vanishment; noisy, crowded streets become quiet. Alone, I can hear the sea wind songs; listening to the sea. The voice of Odin calls from afar, or is it Poseidon? The force of ancient strings prickles the skin; visions of forests and wolves. The streets fill up once more, and the water from the grey clouds buckets down to cause chaos. The beginning of a journey. You are standing there waiting for me, yet we have never met before.
You stand under a livid sky,
singing soft words to your broken heart,
and feeling the livid bruises.
In the Gulag, no freedom to be anyone,
and the living body dies.
Pictures of what once was,
memories of what might have been;
I hope they learn from our sorrow.
Footprints in the snow
Followed by a tail and two
paw prints in the snow
we arrive side by side soft
at the forest cathedral
Enveloped in fog;
driving to nowhere,
we falter.
In the aching abyss,
the fog comes quickly;
we brake.
Voices hold us still;
downtrodden cries,
eerily alive.
We disappear softly;
as if we are nothing,
forever gone.
Meet me there
between the meadow and the road
I will give you a choice
all or nothing; take your pick
You may say no if you dare
the sky is blue, and all we have is here
bind me to you
a soul contract
written in the blood of us and signed
amongst the wild roses
A patchwork of many people
standing under the moon, stars
Dancing to a song you hear
flowing water through the night
A pagan in suburbia
kissing the cosmos, loving life
A song speaks to you
stories in the melody
stirring memories
You play the song on repeat
shifting your emotions, soul
Be my companion
Look to me as your lighthouse
through good times and bad
Be mine until our ship sails
from the shell-covered sea shore
C & K 