Tagged shadow


hjælp mig fisk hjælp mig månehjælp mig morhjælp mig bær og stenhjælp mig hjertehjælp mighjælp mig 


owl: western screech owl is back in nest box, spent the day sunning itself at entrance, watching: spotted towhees, ruby crowned kinglet, woodhouse’s jays, finches, sparrows, robins, starlings, northern flicker, warbler and a red hawk making a brief appearance


you are living at a remote placeit has desert light: bleached & bright you have thoughts like: this is perfect loveyou are amazed you made this your home walking around in all this space & pleasureyou lift up your arms and feel like flying you take off, then gets liftedor caught by the buoyancy much higher than you inteded,in real life it is storming out, relentlessly: all is shaking & trembling each hour of each day into the night is a strenuous distance to covereven when being inside, still:it is not exactly scary, more like a rite


beads   in the morning small feather or shell shows herself with her creamy alluvian fan of whipped white, the round shape presents a reference point on your mental horizon: no sunlight in the days here pale hours throughout winter inside her form is spring-embryo gently pulling at your heart: repeat, repeat repeat


beads   said, yes i’d love to come back though working now.  have to obey; the hours, the days —like beads, weighing against each other  mirroring repetition, unable to know what is real and what is repeated  yes, i’d love to come back; what is now and what has past said, what is lost  stay lost the pain so abandoned; one can hardly recall or mirror the cause i’d love to come back —i’d love 


demon trap flying in over the canyon  recognizing  nooks and crannies, the river.  cars like shiny insects crawling home  or passing through you think my god it really is a wound that place, split open.  the earth torn like skin, the bleeding sandstone, let it not devour me let me pass through  this time — leave it

09.01.2019 2

demon trap tegner en dæmon-fælde. du planlægger at gå derhen du tænker på andre uheld

09.01.2019 1

  demon trap dreaming of owl again this time it’s sitting inside trunk of a tree looking out,  with owl eyes, but childbody plump and sweet


— wandering tattler in (delayed) breeding plumage, still here. if thy right eye cause thee to sin, 


; young predator scenting (your) sweat, wooden-bones, rigging & failures (you’ll be ok) to leave & come back there, exposing faults, disillusionments sloughing hopes & desires to claim you skinned remains wounded, somehow. in the logbook:  writing down the position of night draws one half of sun, partly overcast: ⌓ — what is your wound?