Second Edition, through the Eyes of that which we Read with our Eyes

What do books see?


Their neighbors


Across the way


Crammed together like townhouses


Refreshed by vents

Of Vaulted Ceilings

What lies within this library?


High ceilings and plenty of room to read.


and the whole world in a globe.

Down to Earth and Regarding Lanterns

Now, for a peek inside

Back outside

Balls of Fire and the Death of a Firework

Shaking things up...


...and rolling with it...


...coming back down to earth...


...and seeing a sharp double...


...as the fireworks fade..


...it goes dark.

The Start of Streams and Fire (University District)

Ready, set, go









Could be an advertisement (for shoes?)

Le Martel

Hard pressed, bone to bone,
underneath this flesh there seams a muscle,
beneath its breath lies the blood,
straight from the heart and pounding.

fastforward

Walking down the line drawn through my hall,
it's bigfoot, he's fuzzy, a blur of shadows,
and I dare say an excess of noise,
why is it that even in the forest we find a clatter?

Cuts and clips, ten seconds or less,
a countdown of our most action packed moments,
now, not even, but the highlights of the highlife,
a flicker in desperation of the void that greets us..

The tape unwinds, trip-stop

Upon reaching our rooms,
when the cathode sweeps dim,
as boredom traps and binds us,
to our lonesome selves/who's at the door?

It's the irony of a man who is unfazed,
those who listen at a scream's hiss,
and watch an apocalyptic flash with a faint blink,
yet are still expected to possess a kind expression.

Oscillating Shadows (I'm the Ant)

In the aftermath of a candid capture of the last clear day,
sparkled with crystal spangles and ringing true to the beat,
I watched, with my breath knocked clean from me,
as the gray blanket of our custom returned,
to subdue this once radiant globe.

Have you seen my face lately?
It's surprised shock at the turn of a subtle corner?
Surely it was a poor reply to the back of a cold front?
So why can't I bring light to my shadowed box of belongings?
"Light, give me light!", is that all a grey mind can muster to mouth?

Sorrow seems to scorch my hearth
like the soot of a flame gone out,
I, like a blind man, insipidly biting his gums,
insisting the clay in his eyes is permanent.

As my body appears to decay,
breath with your ears,
eat with your eyes,
speak with your hands,
oh the pieces..

Lonely Snow on a Cold Seattle Saturday

Sleepy Hollow


Down in the Dust


Picnic weather


Stopped by to say hello


Black Square Arches