Because none of us writes in a vacuum – Reflections 09 July 2021

In the recent past, say the last six months, both personal and publication-related conversations (usually by email, though sometimes in the responses section of a Medium piece) have intensified, and have floored me with an incredible sense of support in an activity that I will, quite frankly, do until I…

You know the one that doesn’t fit you

Nudges towards the far back of the bar — it’s dark and you might not catch all the sound — all the speech from the muttering tables around you — scratch of feet moving against the floor

but not really because they have somewhere to go — it’s February or…

A dark that pushes evergreens forward

A dark that pushes evergreens — they become huge spears at night — forward a palisade against the crumbles of lassitude — support and holding the hill in place as crows boldly step

along the shoulders of the highway — sharp against the shining white lines — reflections even


What direction have you planned for me?

soliloquy makes me into a monster: one huge tongue — Barthes

No I don’t want to take a smaller bite — make all those steps — what direction have you planned for me —

setting up the road as if it were a book only you could write — but…

Like tattoo stencils that never make the skin

A thing that stands out — like the shifting wood panels in an old bad futon, letting you sink into the middle, even with the women on either side— trying to get you back

to something like normal — like the colour of the bathroom stall when you ask someone…

That’s what the head feels like

The eyes cross a few lines, a few angles — what we’re looking at doesn’t simply explode into being

but that’s what the head feels like —

pressed to the wall even out in a space where the can has been opened — various veils lifted — but it’s delicate…

Saturday Poetry Prompt: transformations

Early this year — I thought — wind not giving withering dry stems a lot of grace to continue their dying, their changing

of light — and the sound of wind rattling branches — well it’s too far away from me to hear — and I didn’t go hunting for…

The inflections go deeper

Inflections go deeper — somehow — taking on the textures of breath and the sound of the spells

taking new heat with them — the sky is light grey today — mixing well with the shadows of my house

now dark because I’m supposed

to be asleep by now —…

Visiting the chiromancer will have to wait

I was airing a past grievance to the astrologer who fucked with my chart — and then got rushed away —

now taking the upturned palms for new measurements of the lines — but visiting the chiromancer will have to wait till I can make my way

without relying on…

Streams of unconsciousness

Along the steep rock-filled bank — streams coalesce and diverge — fingers spreading apart — now touching more — reaching less

the hard grip of fatal desire — something Atropos cut way too soon — unconscious strings rippling in no breeze — but the ideas and figures loping through the…

J.D. Harms

Former hairstylist, perpetual philosophy student, swallowed by poetry, writing, ideas

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