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photo
of the week.
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song
of the week.
Band of Horses - Is There a Ghost
Um, I don't know what to say. It's chill, listen to it.
poem
of the week.
the Current, the Willows, and the Tide
by Chase Mahlan
A maze X-ing, I see
My provenance mine which I cannot lease
I’m holding the button until it’s no longer green
As I count the seconds until I fall asleep
“N”, “Y”, “Z”
Let them take the place of this last release
Since I lost the tally of my prior stumbles
My mine rumbles as I make an oneiric leap
I’ve searched the shafts for memorable mannequins
Hoping a deluge of manic ire will wash me to the ocean
Oxygen isn’t essential when you’re drowning from within
Perpetual panic breathes are all that remain
When I reach the sunlight I download another reason
Just keep on walking until it darkens in the evening
I must’ve been washed ashore somewhere up River
Now it’s myself that I must deliver
I lave the ash from my indifferent face
Defecate self-loathing doubt which tries to bait
Lying in the Forest, I see the cross linked iron
But the willows grab my attention as they begin to cry
“It’s only a vice that occupies your mine”
“You’ve been short minded by an obsession to dine”
“On something to Tide you over until the next wave”
“It’s much more than water that’s tried to break”
Mental conflict I’ve understood in novels
How did I not hear my mine’s echoing wallows?
I walk over to the surface of the wise and merciful River
Right after I thank the Willows for averting my blunder
I self-reflect like I have so many prior times
Fresh water shines a face wearing a candor smile
Maybe I can’t smooth out what’s been chiseled past
But I can carve deeper meaning into this quarried cast
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