The Post-Modern War

The post-modern war, fueled by outrage fueled by misinformation, the sides undeclared, the enemy elusive–suspected but unknown–masked by lies, the footing of familiar territory suddenly unsure when those with the power to fight… Continue reading

Candles on a Hill

After the fire we counted our dead as one by one they were carted away. Some took extras. No one wanted to leave a body unclaimed, no matter how charred. The Wellingtons took… Continue reading

How to Talk to the Dying

A minute note on my lengthy absence: I have been gone for a while doing life-y things, making a small human, relishing the real, as they say. But here I am, back in… Continue reading

Cement. Arias.

June bugs buzzing Break the silence Above tombs Where buried bodies of the dead sing, “We are not souls And here is not rest” Just June bugs Buzzing in the air So sick… Continue reading

Red Balloon

The funeral march is coming. Little boy beats his drum, the only one he’s ever known, while all the grown ups dress in black. They’re thinking about next week and all the jobs… Continue reading


Of Easter: A Contemplation in three parts Part 3: Easter Sunday Resurrection Pull over. “What, here?” Sure. Why not? “There’s nothing here.” It’s the last dark stretch before the expressway. We won’t get… Continue reading


Of Easter: A Contemplation in three parts Part 2: Easter Vigil Extraction The glare of sunlight blinds me. “Shut up the curtains! Shut up the curtains!” Children play in the warmth of morning… Continue reading


Of Easter: A Contemplation in three parts Part 1: Good Friday Addiction The first drop touches my tongue, spreading a fire from my belly out in branching waves. The flames spread to finger… Continue reading


A dripping of dew Wraps waking maidens Blushing in the dawn; They meet him with a kiss– Father Ra, Aroused from foreign lands, Ascends in whispers (Grow, grow, grow!) Stirring daughters, Full flushed… Continue reading

The End of the World and the Song that She Sang

It was coming. Just a few more minutes. She sat in the shadows, hands folded in anticipation. It would come. It always came. The only constant. But all was constant. A silence. A… Continue reading

Empty Tombs

Just a little Sunday afternoon poetry for you. Grace and peace y’all. The color of stone, the color of skin Pale, cracking, grey. A soldier is just a man; And destruction is just… Continue reading

Let Us Gather in the Woods

Now, as it happened, once upon a time… That is to say, I don’t have the time to take to tell you everything. You should know, anyways. You was there. They was us,… Continue reading

When I found myself in love with literature

I don’t normally post reflective entries to my blog, but this week has been a little different for me. So instead of launching straight into fiction, I wanted to share a little bit… Continue reading

the storm came (I saw it in my dreams)

Why do they call it the dead of night? Do the dreams of dreamers not stir the soul? Or waking will the dreamers cease? Existence flees, if so. But I am awake, And… Continue reading


“Excuse me, but do you have a drop of water?” “Eh? Sorry? Sod off mate. Got work to do here.” “Please sir, just a drop. I’m begging….” “Now look here, you. If I’m… Continue reading

The Hitters!

“It was too exposed.” “Like Hell it was! It was perfect.” “It was too exposed.” “You said that already. Come on. Let’s celebrate. Dai pivo, pozhalsta!” “Gregor, it was…” “Too exposed. Fine, already.… Continue reading


i watch the weary eyes of men from whom so many tears have flown, through whom so many beauties seen and tragedies endured while still a gleam the light of life still burns… Continue reading

The sunset that your heart regrets

The clouds all strung In crimson thread And gold leaf dappled grey A faithless man On streets unknown Watched shadows cast out day. His head he bowed, His coat drew in– An empty… Continue reading

no more soft rains

Before me a ribbon of violent light: the only reminder that beyond the storming skies the world still knows day. .ellemmdee.      

A veil in time and spirits (but isn’t a rainbow really white?)

I saw a girl today dressed all in black. She held a black umbrella towards the sun, her face obscured in shadows, defiant towards the light. She arose in me such feelings of… Continue reading

the Robot and the Rag Doll

It’s ok. Take my hand. She had stopped halfway up the winding staircase. No one lives up here? No one? You’re certain? It is not like that. No one lives where men cannot… Continue reading

Dormant. Speculation.

regular interval patterns, shapes of living found in a heartbeat, a pinprick of light seen through slotted eyes–no one has to tell us this means hope. .ellemmdee.

The Sounds My Mother Made

I can’t remember exactly what I was doing when the doorbell rang. Probably watching TV, as if reality didn’t quite suit my fancy. I still had a dress on, that I remember because… Continue reading

that big yellow truck

i dream of ambulances their red sirens calling you home i dream of silences those moments as you pass from substance into emptiness of being i dream of screaming late into the night… Continue reading


The end and the beginning. How similar they sometimes seem. And living, but a dream. .ellemmdee.

And then, the Raindrops Fell

She sat there. Solitary. Waiting. Her cup of tea chilled beside her, forgotten. One car drove past, another, and another. She just sat there, rocking back and forth, her ancient hands knotted in… Continue reading

don’t miss the bus

He wore black. I thought he was a girl. But he wore black. And I found him not to much notice me, though I noticed him. Perhaps he was a paper man and… Continue reading