Liberty 31

Catrin Welz Stein

Hearts are not cages

Still they cannot

Fathom freedom

The way that doves can.

It’s only human that I hope

To possess you and only human

That I hope no such need exists.


Your soul does not sing

As it was designed too.

Mine hosts a spectacle

On the planes of your flesh.

If only I could fit inside

As we were destined too

But we are not fractions

And no matter how fractured

We are still complete.


If fate had a hand

I do not remember her

Being chivalrous.

Your attention

Was hard to gather,

Fireflies in daylight

And not a jar in sight.

Your love came after

Lengthy deliberation

Cautious but willing.

I should have sought

The clouds instead

But they would not

Have weathered

My suspicion.


We are an awkward pair,

A perpetual collision,

An arbitrary revelation.

I love the way you move

Behind me, your footprints

Broadening my own

A deliberate shadow

An essential ghost.

I hope you swallow my lungs

That I should not breathe

One moment more

Than you can claim.


We are weary but set on

A similar course,

An infinite truce,

A lidded moon

That smiles to the left.

Soon the stars will fall

That is when

Captivity yields to dwelling

That is when

The wishing starts,

That is when my hair

Tumbles through

Your outstretched hands

Strand by strand

And I become me

Without conceit.


There is a tragedy

In assumptions

But if I choose you

I cannot but dream

That you will turn

And address

My propositions.

Grant me a reality

That I can occupy

Not one of my own design

But one in which

We both can host

A reality that does not

Stockpile graves

A reality that evolves

From trust and ardor.

Grant me asylum

And I shall remain there

Of my own desire.


I think this a little different from my usual style but I thought the picture begged a certain rhythm (unfortunately I don’t have any rhythm lol).

Angels of the Prosaic

Buddhist Temple's Bird Cage, 1940 Gelatin silver printKansuke Yamamoto

My heart whittles away all intermediary

None who enter shall ever replicate her song

In the absence of data there is always instinct

That I exist is the only catalyst essential to expression


I dream of brush-fires and lightening

Of incidentals and incendiaries

I am intolerant of dysfunction

When it overtakes my composition

To be an alien in the the desert

Is exceptional only in the clarity

Of a well-articulated obligation

Better to be the only Venusian

In a fountain of supple dreams


All these delusions

These unsolicited truths

Shed on gestation

They are mine to gather

Who else exists that can

Define precisely their shape?


I exist in the minutiae

In the dalliances

Of stones and silhouettes

The muse’s pock-marked face

Composed in odyssey

I am not afraid of demons

Only of men who speak falsely


Were I without hope

I’d cease scavenging

Were I without gratitude

My pen would halt

Its recursive sonnet


I am an optimist canvassing

Hell for a paradise lost

A misfit who sees angels

In the veils of the prosaic


My non appointment appointment took an unexpectedly long time. Though there was a scheduling error and they sent me home as soon as I arrived I spent a weird amount of time trying to get home again. I didn’t have much time to write and I now have the pressure of knowing the appointment isn’t even over yet!

Prompt 29: Rorshach Test

rorshachHere is the image you will be contemplating for this week’s prompt.

Now usually I would offer you multiple images but this week I want to see how one picture can inspire individuality. As always I accept all types of self-expression so whatever your preferred medium. Remember to read and comment to as many entries as possible =) I have noticed a lot of you routinely leaving feedback for your fellow participants so I would like to thank you for that!



Being clay

I find myself


To alien whims


Furtively press

Me into

Companionable molds

But I never maintain

Any impression

That denies

My composition

As a whole

Love is Freedom




Unlace me

Like a pair

Of thigh high boots

Because of you

I walk

Without guile

Because of you

The rage

Of pseudonym

No longer



From your lungs

I draw the sky,

The plumage

Of an effortless



I find it very challenging to write on the weekends and this weekend I have a sinus headache and a case of chaos head so forgive me if the quality of my work went down. Next weekend is my daughter’s birthday celebration so it is a bit crazy haha



I seek validation

In the anonymous

In the cursory embrace

Of a society

Who by its very design

Parries distinction


What right have I

To speak of instinct

When I force

My prophetic bones

Into the sleeves

Of a disingenuous mold?


What right have I

To speak when my words,


In a communal maw,

Lack the integrity

To illicit change?

Hello World!


This blog was created with the express purpose of sharing and collecting my writings. Primarily it is a selfish endeavor since I write for myself and have never written professionally. I do not pretend that I am a gifted writer but it’s not what I create so much as the act of creating. I love writing simply. Through my work I wish to convey emotion, to stir, and move the spirit. I love words the sound of them and their meaning whether those literal or distorted by my own perceptions. I believe in the power of words to move, to inflame, to enrage, to undue, and to bind. So in my works each word is chosen deliberately, each word adored. There is no correct or incorrect translation, often my poems have multiple meanings since I like to use a word in its entirety I sometimes tell many stories simultaneously. The meaning you derive is what is important and I would be very interested to hear your interpretations. I will note in closing that I have dyslexia so feel free to point out any errors of that nature as spell check and proofreading can do but so much.