The Archive
Poems, essays and stories from the first iExile, restored with their original titles and writers, year by year, oldest first.
2012
Before
I love life at the funeral
In the morning, when the deceased is unknown, warm and still hated
When the tax man is about to start his rounds, ruthless and docileShadow Dwellers
Those who dwell in shadows
Are not children of the dark
But rather students of anguish and fearREPETITION
Don't break my arms!
Someone already has,
When rain was not waterWhy Must It Be?
Why must life be
Enviously
Pursued by the one who scythesTHE VARIOUS EXPRESSIONS OF TRAVEL
Travel...
from town to city,
from car to bus,At dawn
I’m late at dawn
Among the rotten dew
Near the slaughtered love, in sightWhat If?
What If?
As I stop and watch the sun set
At the ending of the day,ALIENATION
My mind got tired chasing trendy ghosts
And everything looks so absurd to me,
Today without a sense becomes a lostTo Live and Die in L.A.
Actors in Los Angeles are like the angels themselves – a dime a dozen. The first time I heard –…
SWAN IN THE BACKGROUND
The swan reflects upon the surface of the water,
As a poet contemplates their inner being and soul,
The reflection connects with the swan,At dawn, again
Bayonets smothered by dew
Sighs coagulated by vagrant veins
hope for the sunshine, unseenA Moment in Time
Warm rain-washed morning
Black coffee on the patio
Silent slipping of traffic through the mistRENDEZ-VOUS
Our worlds
Inhabit the other's
With passion.THE BIRD
The bird outside my window sings with a cry,
Waking me from sleep early of a morning,
Then I rub my eyes and breathe out with a sigh.Mourning, into the absurd
Like the powerless gazelle watching its calf being eviscerated ravenously by an insensitive…
Autumn Haiku
Fleeting summer warmth
Golden rain of falling leaves
Harbingers of frostGENESIS
The Universe cried
Out of your womb
Woman.THE OLD DARK ROOM OF MEMORIES
That old dark room that lay partially forgotten,
Forgotten from mind not forgotten from memory,
Memory that if remembered left feelings of loss,ABSENCE
Don't matter you are not here!
Somewhere in the room
Your memories are hiddenTHE SILVER LINING WITHIN THE CLOUDS
I am a woman of 65 years -
I have lived a life of regret and tears;
I spend my days in a 'dream-like' state -