This witch lives in a castle just above the tideline, the sun rises from the yeast and wakes her crusty eyes. She goes out, collecting jellyfish for breakfast, tuna for lunch, but most of the morning she loafs around with Crissy the croissant crab, her best friend and familiar. Sammy the sand witch and CrissyContinue reading “The Sand Witch’s Familiar/Croissant Crab”
Tag Archives: writing
What Mere Magic Is This?
The title for this song came about when I was listening to the last 2 minutes or so and the different sections fit together in an unexpected way, and my reaction was
Cloud Nine/Cyclic
Rains fall to seas, sink thousand years to deepest reef, then dance up to sky. *** Ps, Cloud Nine and Cyclic are only 2 possible themes of this haiku. Buy me a pizza
Mannequin at Midnight
Wooden eyes don’t cry solid hearts don’t ache but I’m no mannequin without will to move my hands
Bad Apples/Puns
If you threw your phone across the room, well, that apple’s phlone, far from the tree, with its smelly feet, you know I gotta rhyme feet with feat and be proud of that feat
Can’t Take My Old Advice
Once upon a time I said, “stories end in happily ever afters too often, it spoils the ending before you’ve even begun, and that’s boring. But if you don’t write a happily ever after, the readers make an uproar, cuz at the end of the journey– through all the hills and bogs and stormy fogsContinue reading “Can’t Take My Old Advice”
Sit with me and Listen
For those who talk slow in the rapid world, if they pause to collect their thoughts from the river bottom will you have already moved on in the white noise?
Find Comfort Here (a haiku)
Let me stray to seas, where the edges of my soul won’t cut your ship’s hull. –the end. Except…here’s a lot of drafts I wrote when coming up with this idea– My soul’s harsh edges rub against the glass ceiling when I dance alone — Dancing here, my spines seek solitude. — Let me beContinue reading “Find Comfort Here (a haiku)”
Cutting our Carbon
Here at Clean Green Energy Solutions Company, we’re cutting our carbon down with loggers and saws
To the ones who lost their PhD in innocence
This tale ain’t here to entertain your intellect, boy, pickin’ at a calico’s cuticle misses the whole cat, and those verbose vocabularies aren’t an art like you think they oughta be; it is in the interest of the living to wax wiser than the weak but I’m weary
Jordyn Saelor 