#homo narran

[ithuryark-blog]

Ka

The road and the tale have both been long, would you not say so? The trip has been long and the cost has been high… but no great thing was ever attained easily. A long tale, like a tall Tower, must be built a stone at a time.

― Stephen King, The Dark Tower

    pretend there isn’t

a difference between

iridescence and building stone

now build the skeleton of a Dark Tower

and sew its skin from eras’…

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The Frame of a Memory

The Frame of a Memory

We had been lost somewhere together

where light hadn’t developed any photos in my memory.

Violet streams tailed behind overarching meteors

while the columns that held up the rooms of our conversations

crumbled into single-word roofless shouting matches.

I gazed upwards, and noticed we left our footprints on the Sun.

That way, old habits wouldn’t have any trouble

finding us in the twilight of our…

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[ithuryark-blog]

Withering Steps

  Disintegration began at the heel

these shoes parsing the terrain of all know surfaces –

the wet and dry, the cool and the burning.

Broke them in to break the longing; the sensation

of recollection of when walking had no derivative

of any who walked any place before then.

Still, the rest held together. There was

potential for momentum to be built in traction.

  Next came the sole. Knowing they…

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[ithuryark-blog]

Pebbles and Pine Needles

Pebbles and Pine Needles

My eyes pour amber over the blue-hued

mountains etched longingly out of my orbit,

and the stillness of my hands falters

as I attempt to comb their snowcaps with my fingers.

I transpose myself and trick myself

into the trees and among the rocks

believing I can feel the chill of residual winter

stinging my skin with cold and silence.

The bite is not unwelcome, it’s just the mountains way

of…

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[ithuryark-blog]

Argot Birthplace

We all move mouths at different cadences,

the bridges of language seeming deeply

Di lapi Dated.

The convect of radio waves stream beneath

withered boards and fraying rope

and everyone’s green enough to swim –

without the fear of

dr

ow

ning… the water tastes fine down here.

New words are formed in bubbled-breath.

Everyone becomes amphibious.

And the bridge begins

to sag

far beneath the shallows

th…

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[ithuryark-blog]

3rd Hour

I severed my spine at the point where I became a jellyfish. I wanted to know what a rebel algorithm could do in the place of low confidence. I just wanted to feel the surf tug my silhouette into sundown. I just wanted to know that my presence isn’t paper thin. Let me know that a light breeze couldn’t distill me from your memory.

I remember being just a boy and the silence of night being the…

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[ithuryark-blog]

Homo Narran

Wonders gray as thundered clouds rivet the overhead of mosques and monasteries. Mosquitos fill the bellies of frogs that leap through years hooped gallantly onto the hymns of travelers.

Does the place across seas across seas vibrations symbolize the beckoning of railroads and airplanes? Will the boat take you there safely if it is aware of your fear of drowning?

One portrayal of God is the echo…

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[ithuryark-blog]

Faeward Wayside

I followed you into the forest my eyes still green and knees freshly scraped. Could you hear my voice permeated with adoration? You showed me the little things that crawled and flew, the crayon box of colors that are made in the dirt, and the rhythm of magic and music and art. I had skimmed the aboveground of some of these things but never had I felt them like this until I felt you. Then one day a…

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