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Continue reading →: The StepRead time: 1 min. She stood in the doorway, looking at the path in front of her, imagining the miles ahead, the costly resources she’d need, the strangers she’d meet on her way, and how she’d rely on their goodwill. She thought of how far point B stood from point…
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Continue reading →: Novel Excerpt: Which Question?Read time: 2 min. An excerpt from my work-in-progress novel The Song and the Tempest Isabelle sits on the balcony, waiting. She zips her jacket as the January winds start to come through. A light breeze blocker sufficiently keeps out the first slight chill she’s felt since last February. It…
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Continue reading →: Novel Excerpt: Restoring MemoriesRead time: 1 min. The opening from my work-in-progress novel The Song and the Tempest After the storm clouds have passed, Nasrin and Julrane will walk under the waves in a sunken island community. Coral will have overrun most of the island’s cities. Only some scraps of walls, a few…
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Continue reading →: No KingsRead time: 1 min Most crowns are jaggedbecause they’re really weapons. Finery is theft. That’s it. That’s the point. This poem’s not an art piece; it’s a clear statement. There’s no metaphor: a tyrant’s just a tyrant, even presidents. To the loyalists: “loyalty” won’t save a soul once one person…
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Continue reading →: Honoring Ada LovelaceIf you can’t give me poetry, can’t you give me poetical science? – Lady Ada Lovelace Editing poems for potential inclusion on the blog this week led me to reflect on the connection between my professional life and my creative life, and the ancestors to whom I owe that connection.…
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Continue reading →: To Bollingen’s Alchemist, ThanksRead time: 2 min. Continuing with the speaker from “Shadowboxing.“ “Philemonis Sacrum – Fausti Poenitentia” – C. G. Jung’s inscription on a gate at Bollingen Tower He let us in through the mirror, my shadow and I, the old magician to whom we’d come nigh. Said he to me, “Before…
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Continue reading →: ShadowboxingRead time: 1 min. Continuing with the speaker from “It’s Nothing“ In a bright alleywaysomeone pressed a stake to my back. I struck their skull with my cane; and felt the crack in my cranium. I collapsed into them, my head at their neck. My fangs found their jugular; I…
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Continue reading →: It’s Nothing
Read time: 1 min. As a child I feared Nothing. Nothing hid under my bed; Nothing watched me from the tree limbs. When our neighbor’s house drowned in crackling flames, Nothing gloated over its former foundation. As I grew they asked what I wanted. I used to say anything because…
Hello,
I’m Judith
Or rather the pseudonym I’m currently using here is Judith. I’m a free time writer and full time performer (in the sense that everyone’s performing all the time, some just more consciously than others). My poetry, which centers on translating minor moments into obscure observations, has appeared in various collections under different names. My psyche resides along the Singing River.
