As heavenly bodies sing,
it brings me to my knees,
the way they shine
and for a moment in time
I am a child… Continue reading “Open Window”
Hello! I thought I would take a few minutes to say hello to everyone this morning, as well as give a mini update on what’s going on in my part of the world.
As many of you know, I tend to be an emotional writer. The challenge of pouring everything into my writing (emotionally), especially if the content is depressing, is that if I do it for an extended duration, I send myself into a downward spiral. From August to early December, I wrote a lot, even more than what’s represented on my blog. In December, I was sick, the holidays were weighing on me, and I spent a few weeks mentally and physically exhausted. Over the last month, I’ve been recharging, written a little bit, and sketching the storyline for my book. Continue reading “Actualizations and Updates”
Bio-methane blisters and bubbles
as men in coal hoods chant,
as moonless, motherless fawns weep.
Dolorous homo sapiens you’ve turned pale! Continue reading “Gaia Bleeds For You”
White lightning strikingly jumped out
of calamitous cauliflower-shaped clouds…
Sounds of thunder roared ferociously,
shaking red wooden barns that splintered. Continue reading “An Ominous Ballad Of Mother Nature rev2”
Copyright © 2019 – Brian Nettles. All Rights Reserved
“As she walked to the end of the wooden boards, the stars spoke to her.” Dreams of love were white feathers whisked through the heavens by the wind. Lapping waves were hypnotic as they crawled ashore from the royal-blue sea. The low hum of the ocean was a majestic symphony playing to his queen. She wondered when her love would arrive. She giggled and grinned, thinking of the kiss they shared last summer. Continue reading “Dreams of Love”
I thought about you today for the first time in a long while. I guess because it’s your birthday, and probably the last. So many years have passed, but the scars remain, literally and figuratively. Nine years old, the only place to sleep was a dirty office floor in the south Georgian junkyard, abandoned and bloody. Continue reading “Forged in Blood”
Loneliness seems to be
chasing me to the lion’s den.
As I walk rough, muddy banks
the dark river whispers and flows. Continue reading “The Lion’s Den”