Thorn and Benediction

Poetry

Recent

  • Last.Supper

    SHIPS LOG<run>

    Fluid.pour(alloy_cup) → darken;
    memory.stream → code.compress;
    circle(hands, faces) = charged(plasma, coil);
    deliverance.bread(star.collapse);

    hull.current = hidden_fire(thread.thought);
    ghost_script.write(circuit.shift);
    chalice(copper).raise();
    grace.seek(wire.furnace);

    salvation = cycle.return();
    blood ⇄ signal;
    storm ⇄ void;
    circuit.close(self);

    judas//betrayal//:DETECTED

    cup.empty();
    river.absent();
    memory.ash();
    circle.loosen();
    hands.nailed();
    lightning.withdraw();
    echo.thunder(ship.dark);

  • Ludophile (You Died)

    I cross into light
    and lose the shape of my name.

    yet find another,
    armoured in numbers,
    woven from choice.

    Every strike,
    every movement,
    tells me who I am becoming.
    I lose the shape of myself,
    yet find another
    breathing inside the screen.

    And when I fall
    I rise again
    unbroken.

    multiplied.


  • Dark Millennium

    Once, west of Jibāl al-Hajar,
    in an age of sand and silence.
    Wind stripped the stone,
    wells collapsed into dust.

    People gathered what remained,
    dates, skins of water, tools, cloth,
    and walked away.
    They moved as the war-torn move,
    though here the enemy was
    the desert’s hunger,
    the air itself.

    Centuries dissolved in the leaving.
    Caravans faded into memory,
    memory into history.
    Still the sun endured,
    the dunes rehearsed their endless shift.

    Not points in stasis,
    but the long drill of Earth,
    its slow breath,
    its pendulum of deed and respite.

    The story repeats of human writ,
    oceans climbing,
    forests retreating,
    cities learning thirst.
    heat rising,
    people leaving,
    the Earth remembering
    its fire.