Guthrie G.

The world – if crafted right – is made up of explosions. In the quietest moments, the thunder is roaring And if you look closely Every still life contains within itself A fiery cosmos of raspberry flowers. Pluck some of them if you’d like, to your own avail.   The magician once spoke to the... Continue Reading →

Wednesday Child

Wednesday night, when the world lies low And feet plough through the streetlight glow, When time’s just a rippling in waters below And the past is a coil of grey mist, nothing-scented I imagine a train track through the unlight, Away. Ghostly people behind curtains of glass, From a different world, of a different mind,... Continue Reading →


Midsummer’s eve, the table spins And comes to standstill halfway turned. Outside, the merry dance beings, Everyone gets what no one’s earned.   The jester steals the high king’s crown, The priest unbuttons his soutane. The seraphim comes circling down, Trades both his wings for one cold ale.   The killer courts his victim’s wife,... Continue Reading →

The Judge

The grave bears no name By the seldom tread path, Only a solitary primrose Planted by a mother forlorn In old love.   Beware of the traveler That came riding there once On a pale horse at midday. Beware of the sketchbook He carries in his pouch.   Upon an empty slope Under the old... Continue Reading →

Falling Awake

I left her in the dead of night, A shadow in a shadow world, A tick that never has occurred With skies like molten pearls outside.   Far down beneath, a train cries out And moves towards the morning red I watch it leave out of my bed And disappear into the clouds.   I... Continue Reading →

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