My writings, from articles and reviews to poems and meditations. Enjoy.
I’m (really!) excited to share the final version of a short story of mine that has been published by Macrina Magazine. It’s titled “The Change of Nothing” and narrates an individual’s experience of the transcendent in a brief, passing moment. It’s a short read (less than a 1,000 words), and I’d love to hear any… Continue reading The Change of Nothing (Macrina Magazine)
I had the privilege of contributing an essay in Ekstasis Magazine on reading as an act of care and the virtue of attention. Click Below to View the Full Article: Coffee Stained Minds
Knowledge And MeI don’t care about theology. I care, about its possibility. I don’t care about philosophy.I care, about its authenticity.I don’t care about history.I care, about what it means for me.I don’t care about science.I care, about its reliability.I don’t care about knowledge.I care, about being free. Photo Credit: Patrick Tomasso
Spring Eternal (A Sonnet)In plain of green there swayed by a wind’s gasp,A kite in tree set chords stirring of Spring,It floated mildly caught in cedar’s clasp,Hope not cradled by a child’s fingered string. Which eternal song by breath of wind’s voice,Did key bright note on rays of sunlight,Then ring golden chord as blonde bees… Continue reading Spring Eternal (A Sonnet)
Sea/Sky (4.26.2020)When lying in crib of grassClouds traveling orbital routes aboveThose wisps swirl, round and downThough so unhurried, no sound is heard. Winds churn to fizzy foamThose vapid ivory beings Dissolving from cobalt sky Hoisting their sails in sea’s silent gale. There in ambrosial seaIts sky shimmering as sapphireSalt permeates its membersFloating beneath all sky’s downward fall. … Continue reading Sea/Sky (A Poem)
Death/Dust (4.10.2020)Waking early in morrow, flattened ‘neath sordid sheetsEyes crusted and heavy, waking under their irisesMisting down, I glimpsed a foggy brightSeeing it eclipse, blind after blindShuttering rays, fastening washboard of lightA dooming haze—covering this sight. Its warmth yoked of day anewAs heavy skin weighed this aged figureAnd hoarse voice ‘eeked its chordsNor did moist… Continue reading Death/Dust (A Poem)
Snow/Grove (3.21.20)In late winter, when Hope thawsAnd cumbersome Ice grows weary,Impeded by glass—surrounded by wood,Longing to leave sight so dreary. Knowing no degree nor warmth, I glimpsed, robbing its strange vision Whether snow or sleet, I queried Unsure, hanging its indecision. Hoping it not Winter’s final complaint, I grasped its faint forms.Capturing those bantam saints,Knowing… Continue reading Snow/Grove (A Poem)
Life/Leaves [3.13.2020] What tis’ the sound, a soft crackle behind.I shudder and twist, to see its working mind.A sound soft and sharp, must be of some form—A Being lurking, with ill intent inside.Quizzing my sight, rolling my eyes,Hunting for its home.Its source—alive! I must be forthright!As my eyes began to comb. Panning, perusing, obsessing, at… Continue reading Life/Leaves (A Poem)
Romans 13:1-7 has historically been a divisive text. The list of its warped appropriations is lengthy. But my interest in this essay is not historical, unless we are speaking of the “historical present”. Today readers of Romans 13 fall into one of two camps. Each offers a radically different response to this text, yet both are colored… Continue reading Romans 13 in the Age of Trump
THE CHANGE OF NOTHINGHe sat amidst a swirl of voices, muffled and punctually interrupted by the sound of an espresso machine—“crrrshee!”—before returning to their homeostatic melody. He’d been there for some time, books splayed in various directions. The tallest stack rose just a few inches below his nose. Although it appeared unorganized, there was a… Continue reading The Change of Nothing (Short Story)
5:42 A.M. – July 2nd, 1999 Moses Rochester wakes up with sleep crusted cross his eyes. It takes three tries for him to heave himself out of bed, releasing an audible “oomph!”. Once vertical, he lays his hands clumsily on his knees, resembling some antique ape. Sighing, he stares at the chipped paint on his… Continue reading The Goldfinch (A Short Story)
*This poem was inspired by a poem of Percy Shelley’s in a letter to Maria Gisborne concerning the Engish Romantic poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
*Written November 22nd, 2019. I haven’t done much writing recently, at least not for enjoyment or improvement purposes. I’ve noticed that my personal reading, writing, and thinking rekindle my passion for study, and most importantly, for living. They enliven me, bring hope, and sometimes, a touch of joy. Like the cool drops of water gliding… Continue reading These Waxy Leaves (Again) [Poem & Reflection]