Do You Hear Them?

A Short Poem

Uncommon Heart

I first saw my heart hanging in the sky
and cried, “Share your secrets, Uncommon Heart.”

I was born that day
yet those words are still written,
penned in shadows on the dark hillside,
and still they are sung
by angels on the other side of the bright, blue sky.

What are you now, Old Soul?
A gutted fish?
What cruel fisherman wrenched
the bowels of your years
out of you?

There’s no Truth in Death—
Despite the bitter authority of its decree.
Your heart remains,
molting its human, sublunar shell—
Sun-bound, hung from the clouds—
for love’s sake its secrets tell
of a glad and glorious coming home.


Was It Last Night or a Life Ago?

A Poem

Was It Last Night or a Life Ago?

Was it last night or a life ago?
When I was an old, frightened Pharaoh
turning in hapless circles like a wounded ape—
my eroded kingdom—eternal!
from my torn veins—of gold!—flowed like the Nile
into the open sea—
the crimson void from which every wide-eyed, terror-stricken question
is answered only by an abysmal, mocking echo of itself.

Unartful deception.
What fool into folly’s pit falls for loss of reason?
Were it not for you, Sun Seed—
and your hot breath on my libidinous ears
I would’ve long ago ceased to be.

I flail against the tide of vile crimes—
mine own and those of my tribe
that you, Sun Seed, so lovingly bequeathed me.
Dare I scorn your dispensation?
For I do so love life … love both you and life,
lamentably. Were they not one and the same.

But that was last night or a life ago.
And now on this, the other side,
both you and life seem not so far apart.

On this, the other side,
unfolds a water lily—
a womb from which a scarab born
skitters, half-circles—it rolls its ball of dung—
You! The bright, burning Sun!
Drying up all the pain in my bones—
to which birds worship in unbridled song—
to which even the doddering trees with limbs uplifted glorify
from which a weeping, young boy is born—
each of his tears a man or woman made.

It was last night. It was a life ago.
Fallow night I dread you so.
But now I stand trembling
under the infant sky—
and you, Sun Seed, flower at her naval—
and still I breath
heaving within this mortal womb.


God’s Eye

A Short Poem

God’s Eye

In the sky
at me stared God’s eye.

“I see you, God!” I cried.
Answered the sky:

“A voice distant calls,
of mine a son perhaps …
yet nowhere do I see
from where this voice calls out to me.”

I waved my arms and pleaded
and blinked God’s eye.
Answered the sky:

“Mountains don’t speak
with words like these,
as not the desert, ocean,
river, or forest trees …
yet nowhere do I see
the son that calls out to me.”


Year 2018 365 Photo Journey (March 17th thru April 1st) – Windmills and Chicago

Here are some pics from my recent trip to Chicago. Enjoy!


365 Photo Journey

Apparently, this is a thing. Consider it a challenge, a journal, or a journey (I prefer journey). Take a picture a day and post it to your blog. Here are some reasons why you should try it, too.

Year 2018 365 Photo Journey (March 7th thru March 16th) – Crown Hill and Doogie

Some pics from Crown Hill Cemetery and, of course … Doogie! Enjoy!


365 Photo Journey

Apparently, this is a thing. Consider it a challenge, a journal, or a journey (I prefer journey). Take a picture a day and post it to your blog. Here are some reasons why you should try it, too.

Year 2018 365 Photo Journey (February 6th thru March 6th) – Odds and Ends

Downtown Indianapolis. The Art Museum. Orchids. And some other weird stuff. Enjoy!


365 Photo Journey

Apparently, this is a thing. Consider it a challenge, a journal, or a journey (I prefer journey). Take a picture a day and post it to your blog. Here are some reasons why you should try it, too.

Conversation with a Dog

A Short Poem

Conversation with a Dog

Me:
Melancholy creature whose master is man,
we are none without our overlords.
Let us weep—you and I together—
for our inherited condition.

A Dog:
It is not the face of God
I see in my master,
but God himself.
And God sees in me my mortality,
and loves and pities me for it.


100 Day Project Three – Day 31

DAY 31 (February 5th, 2018)

ice drops
remain
long after frozen rain fell

on an open umbrella

a bulwark
heavy
against all that is hurtful

the sun
may one day
melt them into water


The 100 Day Project

The 100 Day Project

The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.

I started this, my third, 100 Day Project on January 6th. My project is to write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by a poem, a quote, an idea, a painting—anything really. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project-number-three/

Enjoy!

Year 2018 365 Photo Journey (January 1st thru February 5th) – Playing Catch-Up

Well, I’ve been a bit remiss in taking photographs. I feel the cold weather is mostly responsible. I just haven’t had the gumption to go out in the cold. Maybe I’m getting old … well, there’s no ‘maybe’ about it … still, I could’ve gathered up my courage to face the arctic conditions, but I didn’t. At any rate, I’m playing catch-up, and to do that, I’ve been going through all my photographs and just picking some up and putting a few filters on them. They are not my best work … but you gotta do what you gotta do. These will close out the year! Enjoy!


365 Photo Journey

Apparently, this is a thing. Consider it a challenge, a journal, or a journey (I prefer journey). Take a picture a day and post it to your blog. Here are some reasons why you should try it, too.

100 Day Project Three – Day 28, 29 and 30

DAYS 28, 29 and 30 (February 2nd, 3rd and 4th, 2018)

DO YOU HEAR THEM?

Do you hear them?
You spoke those words in your youth,
and still they are written,
penned in shadows on the dark hillside,
and still they are sung
by angels on the other side of the bright, blue sky.

What are you now?
A gutted fish?
What cruel fisherman wrenched
the bowels of your years
out of you?

Do you now beckon Death?
Will you not rise from your chamber
and sate yourself with your Master’s leavings?

hillside


The 100 Day Project

The 100 Day Project

The 100 Day Project is a creativity excavation. It’s about unearthing dormant or unrealized creativity by committing to a daily practice everyday for 100 days.
Creativity is a skill. The more we practice, the more skilled we become. Practice takes time. Practice takes commitment. Practice is a radical act in this speeded up world. Through practice, we develop a creative habit. Through habit, we reconnect with and know ourselves again as a creative being.

I started this, my third, 100 Day Project on January 6th. My project is to write at least one first-draft stanza inspired by a poem, a quote, an idea, a painting—anything really. I’ll post the results at www.bradseverance.com/category/100-day-project-number-three/

Enjoy!