- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
dead lives matter too
Boneholders, meshed within flesh. Wonderless, breath balloons squirming unheard. Worm-worded. Hegemonies of absence once upon their time. Gasping and groaning, Maui wriggles away into stillness and silence.
grave matter
in memory-made
once with words
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
late afternoon
my shadow falls deeper
into debt
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
season word
I transplant my heart
into foreign soil
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
on solid ground
my eyes circumnavigate
abstractions
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
narcissus . . .
the truth that lies
in her eyes
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
Remember Man
Is September always the cruellest month? The inexorable path plotted towards the vernal equinox. Hiruhirama (antipodean Jerusalem). Pine and midges pollinate the air. Breath-bruised now and at the hour of our death. Memory and desire. Dull roots of absence quickened with spring rain. Self-emptying breath. Throat strangled. Incoming wind choked off in an almost wordless stridor. "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani!"
southern cross
evening shadows clutch
a handful of dust
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
Focal Point
Living things are defined by their ability to eat, move, reproduce, excrete, sense, breathe, and grow. How many have to be taken off this list before I lose definition?
twilight mist
whisper-words
hang about
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
remote valley
pylons empowered
stride the hills
- Details
- Written by Hansha Teki
- Category: September 2017
death in spring —
clouds clot horizons
closing in
