©2023 michael raven
i strip myself of vain vestments, binding boxes walk beyond the waves

words | spirit
©2023 michael raven
i strip myself of vain vestments, binding boxes walk beyond the waves
©2023 michael raven
aging hands grown cold brewed oolong, ceramic mug crows playing in snow
Congrats to my friend Anne, who has an ebook of poetry lined up to release at the end of the month, Brutal Wanderer, as announced on her post for the day. She’s a passionate lover of haiku, and I recommend giving her a shot if you like such things too. She also writes a pretty engaging tale from time to time (shudders to the silverfish, however).
holiday music frantic rhythm of a heart 46 days from home ~ click to read full post haiku | november 9
haiku | november 9 — anne a p a r t
I know I need to bolster my collection of other writing friends’ works and I may take a portion of my employee stock dividends to correct such things in the coming weeks.
Hey! Have you purchased galdr yet? Many many thanks if you have already.
©2022 Michael Raven
there is change blowing in on autumn winds today -- blanket over face
©2022 Michael Raven
everything still as lake mirrors the setting sun -- loon cries for the moon
©2022 Michael Raven
glassy-eyed snotty hack cough hack hack fever too sexy for you
©2022 Michael Raven
camp out on the couch
memories of crash pad days
kitten on my chest
©2021 Michael Raven
bamboo moving back and forth in stormy weather yielding, unbroken
©2021 Michael Raven
you smell like whiskey, vanilla, old leather and aged books in dream
cold hands and the soft hush-whir of a laptop fan eyes growing heavy
© Michael Raven
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