people always make it sound like you figure things out early that’s it’s all simple that it all falls in place that it gets easier when you near 30. i’m still a mess a lone tetromino falling through the cruel vacuous infiniteness of space spinning out of control. a bulge of scattered wood blocks strewn…
Author: Mitchell Chmielewski
Sister Moon – A Haiku
sister moon above estranged apart divided gentle guiding light
Honey Water – A Haiku
honey water flows trickling sweet nectar and musk peak and valley meld
Measuring Up
your blood rushes magmatic vascular filaments ignited ‘neath less than two millimeters of flesh – confidence betrays you eyes lowered a subtle act of humility submission – so close you can smell it taste it flit it with an eager tongue – rigid protrusion of inadequacy prodding your flaccid ego penetrating your self-image sowing fertile…
Tarnished – A Haiku
silver in her eyes quickened in the winter years tarnished before spring
Scribbling Autumn
pen of time scribbling autumn dripping ink shaded charcoal upon the page – embraced in black all color eroded swallowed in its muted gaze monochromed silenced – hush the whir of vehicles ambience inhale the smoke of moonless nights – the last word written upon the page blending lost within a stained season
Curious Final Thoughts
plummeting from the cliff at daybreak i see myself reflected in the shallow pool that breaks my fall – the rocks appear rather jagged from this height proliferating many a ponderous wicked thought as to whether i will feel their innumerable barbed teeth sink into my plushy flesh – my slow descent allows for a…
Tumbleweed Trash
gazing out third story windows dancing in moonlight drinking – children hanging from streetlamps swaying – wind gusts passing through back alleys – tumbleweed trash
New Fields
we set off – fearless travelers in tireless pursuit aware of the perils lurking on the periphery – baren satchel bereft of utility endowed with promise – handful of possibility a crumb of opportunity – making camp where others fear to tread lightly into the fangs and furnace lit to bar our path – coated…
Song of a Dwarven Bard
the dour witches douse their hair in burgund’ wine of vine so sweet in oaken casks of forest fair feet brushed in earthen moss of peat – bewitching verse beyond the light a fiendish curse upon their heads sharp cackles rise and bring with fright such horrid fancies rife with dread – in dead of…
Piecework Prose 