I Am Fire

Great granitic catacombs, hollowed out by flame rust inside my soul. Magma cracks through the crust of my earth, smoking. Metal, molten, seethes at my core; the history of my formation, tumultuous, written in every layer of my skin. Black ash spouts from my mouth, volcanic, I erupt, bursting, spitting, lashing, lava tongues and rocky…

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Journal: Recovered

To all of you who diligently supported my quest to have my journal returned to me when it was lost last month, there is good news (several weeks overdue): My journal was found by a fellow Southwest traveler, who is humble enough to have requested anonymity. The journal, it seems, fell out of my bag…

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Blog Awards, Or, Those Whom I Love

A great way to ring in 2014 – my good friend Nillu has just nominated me for a blogging award called the “WordPress Family Award”! I have no idea what this means, but I guess I’m in some sort of family now, and I’ve inspired at least one person with all these words I type.…

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A Word On Words – Guest Post By Ken Floro, III

Writers collect vocabulary words like tourists collect souvenirs, and believe it or not, words can serve the same purpose. I still remember the first time I encountered evocative words like ‘senescence’, ‘hoary’, and ‘sanguine’. Somehow they struck a chord in me, and I immediately knew I wanted to add them to my collection. When I…

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Book Review: “Our Held Animal Breath” by Kathryn Kirkpatrick

I have a deep and abiding respect for poets. Poetry, I think, is among the hardest of art forms to do well; it requires a painter’s skill with imagery and visualization, a musician’s sense of rhythm and beat, a writer’s craft with words and metaphors, and a philosopher’s or a monk’s contemplative view of the…

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