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too many mentions of angels in a row on this blog… and some of them are unrelated……… lol

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#writing #may 7 2025 #poetry #quote is from richard siken

my angel (valentine) feb 10 2025

the angel of warmth (oct 31 2024)

chicago’s first chill of november left your hands empty and frozen blue, trembling as you walked laps around the same city block over and over, hoping that the falling leaves would take pity on you and pile up six feet over your head. you’d always thought of snow as rain that loves you, but now you wished rain had loved you all along, instead of trying to wash you away into the freezing current of the river nearby.

he breaks the endless loop of the city block. he has a halo of cinnamon and his apartment has a furnace. his hot chocolate warms your fingers and eases the tightness in your chest. he gives you a bowl of blueberries drizzled with honey to eat. his sweatshirt is fresh from the dryer and his blanket of feathers wraps around your shoulders. he lets all of the rain fall, and makes sure to be there when you decide to get back up again.

there’s blueberry jam and honey on your toast the next morning, too, and there is more hot chocolate every evening. there is cinnamon sugar in the hot chocolate. there is the scent of cinnamon keeping you away from the river.

and if you wait long enough, there is the spring after an unremarkable valentine’s day, there’s cheap chinese takeout in front of the TV, there’s a casual night on the town that takes you by the river, there’s always more cinnamon hot chocolate and blueberries with honey, and there’s a warm body next to you in the morning a year after you stopped looping around the cold city block.

#writing #prose

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#writing #poetry #the dreams of an anemoiac

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#writing #poetry #the dreams of an anemoiac

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#writing #poetry #the dreams of an anemoiac

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#writing #the dreams of an anemoiac #poetry

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#writing #the dreams of an anemoiac #poetry

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#writing #the dreams of an anemoiac #poetry

disconnect (sept 29 2024)

“hang in there” said the voice on the phone, echoes rattling around my skull like a marble maze. “hang in there,” as if mere words could do anything to dull the persistent, perpetual pain of bruised bones. “hang in there,” says the tape holding my hand together. “hang in there,”the words like a stick of gum in my mouth, chewy and slimy all the same, but they just don’t stick. “hang in there,” as if there was anything to hold on to, but my ribs are monkey bars and my stomach still stays empty after i’ve counted all my coins. “hang in there,” how could you say such a thing to me, sitting on your high horse? “hang in there?” i’d rather hang from the rope.“hang in there,” to the handles in the taxi cab to your part of town.

“hang in there” said the voice on the phone, which is how i know the star heard the messages i sent into the sky. “hang in there,” the voice on the other end is different but familiar. “hang in there,” says the message that made it through the spiral cord looped around my finger. “hang in there,” i reach through the receiver to the voice on the other end, as if having you on speed dial will bring you back to me faster. “hang in there,” before you hang up, dial tone signifying you’ve disconnected. “hang in there,” like the echoes that stick to my skull.

#writing

you’re an angel (oct 22 2024)

i don’t believe in god,

but i believe in the angel

that exists in you,

the cacophony of wings

and eyes arranged like

a constellation of sadness,

you appear to me as the beauty

of a melancholy melody,

concentrated teardrops and stardust

tracing your outline onto