I’ve got a voice where you’ve got a song. I’ve got a note, you, a chord. I’ve got a paper, where you’ve got a pen. I’ve got a cry, you, a sword. I’ve got a thread, where you’ve got a loom. I’ve got a key, you, a kite. I’ve got a sail, where you’ve got…
An Ode to Unbeautiful Things
This is an ode to unbeautiful things, like monarchs once bottled in flight, as we called what we did preservation while its spiracles struggled to fight. This is an ode to unbeautiful things, like hermits once kicked from their land as we called what they ran from outdated and constructed our cities on sand. This…
Questions
What does man say of his eminent death, when he follows his fate with a quavering breath? Does he mutter a truth to his comrade beside? Or swallow his fate as he grapples with pride? -Amy Struthers Image by: James Kovin
No One Asks About Blue
It’s assumed that of all of the colours, Blue’s the most misunderstood, for where Yellow is mellow and Green is serene, Blue is the absence of ‘good’. To some, Blue’s a feeling of sadness, hence why they say, ‘playing the blues’, but imagine what colours I’d sing of, if you spent one day in my…
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When the blind burn the world with the language of sight, how can they be sure that such torches are light? – Amy Struthers
A Theory on Lewis Carroll (Personal Notes)
While a student at the University of Christ Church, a man by the name of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson befriended three young girls who were to forever change the course of his life. Known to the world as Lewis Carroll, the shy, stammering mathematician penned a story entitled, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, in which events and…
The Incredulity of Saint Thomas
It began with a tree and a garden in the palm of an ardent Creator, who gifted the world salvation, before man had recognized his fall. Beauty among us. Truth before us. And in a moment, paradise lost. Until the hour, when upon a cross made of uprooted garden, He became the atonement for our…
Good Grief
Some say I’ve the demeanor of that Peanut they call ‘Chuck’, who seldom smiles, and travels miles, to test his lousy luck at getting with a red-haired girl, who barely bats an eye, at a boy who’d rope the moon for love to gift her bottled sky. This is the tale of the grief that’s…
Ray (Based on a True Story)
Your name was as it sounded-a candle in the dark,to guide me through the tunnelslifting melodies of larks.Rejected from fine Julliard,you swayed as you played Bach,when they offered you bravadoshould you flourish with the flock.“Alas” they said, “you’re talented,but must step into place”,when they noted that such movementswere preventing you from grace.But you, just like…
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There’s a nail on the wall -tilted and pocked above some half-chalked sketch of a man paying no mind to the chrysanthemums. He, who makes no fuss about the lights being on or off, stills in the room that studies his window, and welcomes us with the same worn-out expression we oblige. Out of formality…
Right Handed Rhymer 
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