Tag: Poetry
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An Age of Cheap Outrage
Outrage is on sale everywhere,stacked high in the bargain bins,brightly packaged, easy to grab. Understanding sits on the top shelf,unlabelled, unadvertised,requiring a ladder no one bothers to fetch. So we keep choosing the thingthat costs nothing upfrontand everything later.
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The Chair
It started when someone brought a new chairto the kitchen table.Nothing unusual, just a spare seatpulled in from the shed,a little wobbly,one leg shorter than the others.We joked about it.We made do.It was only a chair. But over time, people began sitting differentlywhen they ended up in it;backs straighter,voices tighter,sentences trimmed downto the safe parts.No…
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A Star That Forgot to Burn
Listen;in the beginning, the universe wasn’t made of atoms,it was made of attention.Every star lit because something cared enoughto ignite it.Every planet spun because something whispered,move. Creation is participation.Existence is engagement.The cosmos is a choirand apathy is the one voicethat refuses to sing. Apathy is not silence.It’s a gravitational collapse.It’s a star folding in on…
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New Logos
I’ve added a couple of new logos to the site. Step into the archive of everything I almost said out loud;the scraps, the sparks, the moments that refused to stay still,all stitched together into something that feels a little like truth. And this little mark? It’s just the doorway;the quiet signal that the words are…
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Howl For the Quiet Classroom
(With inspiration from, and apologies to, Allen Ginsberg…) I saw the best minds of my generationtrying to get thirty teenagersto care about a metaphorat nine‑thirty on a Tuesday,holy fools of fluorescent corridorsdragging whiteboard pens like relics,summoning meaning from photocopiesthat still smell of warm toner. I walked the tiled floors of the learning cathedral,the budget‑cut basilica,the…
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April Fools?
We don’t need April to tell us we’re fools. We do that ourselves every time we trust the wrong hunch, laugh at the wrong moment, or walk into the day with our shoelaces untied and our certainty tied too tight. We’re fools when we love too loudly, when we hope too early, when we mistake…
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April Breeze
April speaks in half‑truths:a warm breeze here,a cold shoulder there,never quite committing to either. It lets the blossoms openjust enough to tempt you,then tests your faithwith a sharp, late frost. But you learn to trust the pattern:uncertainty first,growth second,and somewhere in between,your own patience stretching.
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Poem About the New Domain (Which Is Not a Big Deal, Apparently)
I bought a domain. It felt like the thing to do. weatherinmyribs.com;a name that suggests I’ve thought this through. I haven’t. But the link works, and that’s really the whole achievement.