A Teacher on the Cusp of FallOrange leaves falling brownA Teacher on the Cusp of Fall by thirdim3nsion
and students gather round now -
it's time for learning.
Our InheritanceProtect one iconic heritage.Our Inheritance by thirdim3nsion
Preserve a Japanese meadowsweet,
a flowering garden
and its landscaping beds.
But beauty is more than a garden;
it is a purple blazing star,
a dew covered bluestem -
the open bald summit on the mountain.
Hidden Manfrom dustHidden Man by thirdim3nsion
the mortal mixed soul
of a hidden man
crawls woeful, slow
out of the valley
of dry bones.
he spills red
the blood, the heifer,
rubs its ashes
on sackcloth skin,
and water washes,
to atone the sin,
James Taylor Probably Hates Richmond TooJames Taylor’s a fair companionJames Taylor Probably Hates Richmond Too by thirdim3nsion
when echoing the loneliness woven
between lines, lines best read as though
I always thought that I’d see her again,
but she lives in Richmond, that city
of second rate attractions, distractions,
destitute detractors of dreams that
scream like car alarms at 4am
for the owner to protect them
from burglary or wind blowing
just hard enough to trip the sensor.
Perhaps she only knows these same
sensory dreams still wake me up at 4am
and I howl scream into the sheets,
sheets that she wanted to sneak in
to clean because we had dirtied them
years before she left for Richmond.
Whether she knows or I dream alone,
I always thought that I’d see her again.
god's inveiglenothing right is left.god's inveigle by UnspecifiedUnknown
blue devotions quietly sink in ink,
in estuaries haunting the swell
and sigh of a lullaby raised beneath
a haloed moon. a pregnant sky moans
against the weight of her labouring
clouds; verses invent blame
on the suspicious hips swayed
by bodies translated in brethren
wind. a gospel of shadows in flight
estrange their own daily devotions in
d minor. poetry writes in this colour.
nothing left is right.