bonemeadows

[bonemeadows]

atlantic coastal pine barrens: the inherent terror of territory: a wound edged white. 

an inch of rain lashed down on us every other day. the alders and their flowers. the first osprey is just a keening from above the fog bank. the rots set in again and the house sinks with acquiescence while a heartbeat syncs with the dripping of a gutter. twilights deep in blue and frog song. 

slick rage blood-warm. that we came so far and not for love. oh, weak word: weak world. and still i am a sun-bleached bone in the pocket of your coat. the past is in such a sorry state. while you tend to your regret the sea conjures something savage. will you know the punishment when it comes?

Spring where you are -

Location: (can be a general region like “Midwest” or “city” or something)

What it’s like: (observations, ecology, who is out and about, quiet moments, hiding places, etc.)

How it makes you feel:

[bonemeadows]

Poetry Month Prompts

1. as good as you'll get 2. girl names 3. lacrosse 4. swan 5. house with a name 6. one year after the accident 7. profiteroles 8. potholes 9. vivisection 10. adult revenge 11. "safe" place 12. road sign 13. glam 14. oyster mushroom 15. mother's footsteps 16. what life was like 17. almond milk 18. lagomorph 19. physical therapy 20. birthday flowers 21. book of miracles 22. ferment 23. brick 24. routine 25. days spent waiting 26. infirmary 27. hallucinogen 28. supper club 29. deviant 30. age

[bonemeadows]

the last few days of winter and i’m in my big sweater under my big flannel shirt under a sun that doesn’t want to set and the air smells sweet and the aspens hold their flowering twigs up to the light

#and the dog doesn’t want to come inside yet

[bonemeadows]

sunlight in an empty school room. a mug of green tea steaming on a wide windowsill. your handwriting barely legible in the margin of my notes.

i remember my head always aching with words. and my hands too, but with something else, something less clean. you hated that i smoked in the car and i hated that you wanted to kill yourself. later there was a reversal, and i often think of what would’ve happened if we’d both wanted the same thing at the same thing.

the gray fox in the cemetery. the rusting swing set out on the beach. the way the sky leaked pink through the trees all winter.

What do you remember of that other world?

[bonemeadows]

the outer shore - november 2023

#ph #35mm

[bonemeadows]

southbound to the golden gate - january 2024

#ph #35mm #this film is almost twice as old as i am

[bonemeadows]

california trees - january 2024

#ph #35mm

[bonemeadows]

california with my best friend - january 2024

#ph #35mm

[bonemeadows]

i have been feeding the story on my own blood all along

[bonemeadows]

listen to me, okay? the story exists because we told it. it doesn’t matter if we never make it there, you can’t convince me it exists any less. did we tell each other how it ends? then we’ve already been through it. we’re safe. 

#to remember

[bonemeadows]

january behind us. every morning for the last week the thrush meets me in the woods to remind me of my vow of tenderness. a vow that's a stone in my pocket, carried everywhere. the little thrush flutters from the thin arms of a black cherry to a low slung oak. the dog leads me to four spots of blood on the leaves. and now the pines to the west burn in the fresh sun and the thrush has left us for the day.

[bonemeadows]

the north coast - scotland 2023

#ph #35mm

[bonemeadows]

beech forest - scotland 2023

#ph #35mm

[bonemeadows]

slains castle, which belongs to the rocks - scotland 2023

#ph #35mm #finally sharing some of my photographs from last year

[bonemeadows]

thin light

the light in the city every morning is bled out. we take the train in, get off in the north, and walk along the sea wall. eighteen feet of concrete, three feet wide, twenty nine miles long. if you slip, on one side you’ll fall into the gutter of chemical sludge, shell casings, rusting things and glowrats travelling along it all. on the other side, the sea will take you. in some places the waves burn on their crests and crash smoking into the wall. 

we come out here to look for ships. white bones on the horizon. if we see a plane we run. 

for @nosebleedclub 1.4.24

#memories of the damaged future

[bonemeadows]

for @nosebleedclub 1.1.24

#memories of the damaged future

[bonemeadows]

1.1.23 @nosebleedclub prompt