Earthly voids & Spiritual quest, Echo Muses

A Shading Response

After the subsiding of the color shock,
granite grey spills into my day
As liquid rock passes through these lens,
and up to mercury,
to surge the cerebellum bay

Panic flutters in my hearth of garnet consumption
Held a mudra to feel the rhythm
Within that upper mantle — a wild outcry
Some bottled up words burn brighter

You possess the flood
Let’s interrupt our patterns
For we our interdependent

Mental Health


The self sabotage roping you in.
How to trust in that shaky hydra of skin?
As you search through it all,
Everything you thought was love;
Horded into corners.
Pushed aside, rummage through,
When your mind can bare to touch it.
Separate the conversations,
Into more tolerable piles.

Stacked up to the ceiling;
All those long ago friends.
You behooved their art,
Spinning wonder towards
The ethereal 9 to 10.
Treasures found in medicine cabinets, borrowed hasselblad lap shots
On bedspreads, and shower curtains,
Became sudden backdrops.

His black hair tugs
At your memory strings.
Backwards in the darkroom
For the make-out session.
Only wanted you as a moving stranger.
We exposed and dramatized our Destructions.
Too much vodka weeping
And highway speeding.
But he followed you home;
To thread you into a knot
And began to call you his friend.

How many more after him?
Lowell’s alarm,”they’ll never come back.”
His firewords,
Burned it all down,
Heaps of ashes.
It was idealistic,
The origin of expectations
For them.
At last you can’t pretend.

In the morning,
You still have your asana
And a mantra to reshape and liberate; everything you’ve enslaved.
For daily shallow sighs, eventually snowballs into an avalanche.
Only your breath remains
For the restitution.

Art: Sara Willett

Words: Nara

Echo Muses

A Roaring Stumble

A graveyard of wedgewood
All her possessions,
Latticed around her willowed heart
In the stream foam green corners,
Of the after-party
Love her soul splendour, a dancing daisy

The Fitzgeralds’ torrent love
Scott’s shame,
Could we give it a name
Hiding behind Zelda’s ruffled feathers,
Lit the bellicose beast hours
And those flames expired,
Only after taking Zelda’s mind and flesh
All that her heart could hold


Illuminated Moon Shadow

Cozing in, by the trees.                                                                                                                           Come on, it’s just around the Bend.
Kiss me in your moon shadow,
By the silver beach.

I wish my needs could vanish,
Into those crashing waves.
But they remain,
Arched toward your musing Hands.

Wisdom tells to stay moons Apart.
Keep to the you and you
And the I and I;
To avoid the cost of a broken Heart.
The veil is there to always help,
But I often anticipate the other Side.
For glory is never something to Hide.

So we are like glass
That breaks apart.
But glass can be fused.
A flame will do.
Your moon shadow I choose.

Echo Muses 9.

Rattle of Tongues

I know these words are somewhere
down inside me.
Some I held as a child.
Sisters spoke in endless streams
to flood a river.
No room to pour out, no echo to rattle in their ears.
Locked up for years.
My mouth felt like the arroya split.
Until we met near the December pines.
You pushed me out into that frozen lake.
My mouth filled up in frost.
When I spoke, my words emerged slowly, like icy swirling ghosts.
You were the miracles in those days.
The founder of my blue heart.
The day you left Vincent,
was the day I lost my voice again.
I long for my rattle,
To speak endlessly, while you smile back at me.

Photograph: Talking to Vince, Francesca Woodman

Poem: Nara





You’re the tiger eye to my wobbly mind.
A phenomena.
To teach me what I mouth on a pixelated spread.
And not just be another chalkboard poet.
You were the core to my apple.
The yin in my yang.

Before you all I knew was to forget, to stop asking, to stop tearing, and to bobble like drift-wood.
Abandoned symbolic punishment.
Trapped an alien connection, of what we said in the dark.
We found a common need.
When daylight came streaming in, duality, apparently.

You came to my rescue and built within me a honest temple.
Infused everything.
So where did all the magic go?
Must’ve palmed my ego too tightly.
And I was too eager to rise.
For the feast is tossed over cliff’s edge.

And my heart, like bruised blueberries scattered on the floor.
Somehow I’m back digging in the ruins. As the seeker surrounded, in bleeding hearts.


Echo Muses 6.

Cyclic Negativity + Positive Infinity =

Wedge, in love

I’m shying—you’re brazen

Eyes downcasted

Veins freezing

My esteem is leaving

Sorrow’s Springs always weighing from rain,                                          That trickles down my legs

I can’t pretend to not be staring at these blue veins                                The pounding—REFRAIN, REFRAIN

I’m shying—you’re brazen

Pour at the wrist, to sink into your impossible abounding bliss

I’m shying—you’re brazen

My drizzly mind, awakened to your perpetual hyacinths

Echo Muses 4.

The evanescent sparks

Pyrite in the night                                                                                                                                          

well spent on gin lips.            

Seductive as a lime-twist,

you feed my ego senselessly.

I dye my thoughts to fit your rapturous—

indigo fizzle

fingers unbent


until your index touch

curls them into rhythm

crushing us back

in a swirl cloud

of crystal dust.

The comedown oblique as before

until in dreams,

I’ll usher in…

mining for your immersion.
Poem and Image: Naomi Ruth S. W.