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April showers bring May flowers and perhaps... a cough is okay? The bends and boughs won't break won't fall we'll catch nothing at all A May Day, Not mayday no S. O. S. We praise—this day Halle-lujah! YAY! We feel the sun's rays through the clouds Say it loud: April is over! 2020, our longest year With contagion ever near and the science shifted gears sent our medics into tents and we canceled ALL events so that the weeks they felt like years Today ...we look forward and with hesitancy ask May... we have a fresh start? |
DEAR READER
Welcome to my literature, music, and visual poetry project. My blog represents a method for deciphering the fragments left behind in the Anthropocene. Writers use ashes as a metaphorical device in storytelling. Have you ever wondered about the symbolism of ashes? Archaeological fragments of tablet, papyrus, bone, scroll, and pottery are recognizable the world over. In our digital era, however, our lost folkloric works disintegrate into dust. In this sense, I consume the silver flakes and use my he{art] as a vessel to rise from dystopic wastelands. I share lore through the oral tradition. Ashes to Ashes we continue on ∞ to infinity ∞ We are ash. We are stories. We are star dust. We are eternal.
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November 2024
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