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Art astronomy belief comfort divinity gratitude love poetry

John Dorsey, John Dorsey, John Dorsey

if the shelves of hell are lined

with all the books

that should have been written

please know

there’s a big gaudy ass pink satiny lace volume

of poetry i didn’t write about you

sitting quietly in the

damn, but didn’t we have fun

section

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Americana Art astrolabe astronomy baseball writing beauty belief biology books cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology civility comfort communication confections corsets dance death digital art digital photography divinity Europe fairy tales family fashion fauna feminism festivities fucking funerals geneology geography gratitude happiness history holidays human behavior humanity iconography journalism Kentucky life literature local color love love poetry mindfulness mourning muse Music mythology non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting Paris photography poetic theory poetry pop culture publishing punk relationship studies relationships religion rituals romance seasons self-love sexuality shooting stars society sociology Southern Gothic technology thanatology The British Royal Crown theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends

Y’all, we’re gettin’ hitched proper this time!

https://fb.me/e/3PnMpe9pV

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Abelard and Heloise Americana analysis astronomy beauty behavior belief coffee dance death

prospective tango partner…

https://wp.me/pLWgN-7XF

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Americana Art astronomy beauty belief cemeteries childhood civility comfort communication

Blood Relations

Kentucky thoroughbred

wild flower covered

rose wreathed

bluegrass hills

day lilies praying to face the sun

white horse fences on Derby Day

mint julep

drinking celebrities

wearing too much makeup and cloying colognes

spectator hats

pastel bow ties, open toed

espadrille intentions painted perfectly

round pen prancing

such breeding,

& the horses are pedigreed too.

The world of Man O’ War and

My uncle,

Etheridge Spaw,

my family’s last great horseman

elder statesman

until we got a jockey and horsewoman

in my niece, a true princess.

Etheridge had a voice like thunder

booming across a valley

melodic, bellicose, bass baritone

a cowboy hat the size of god

and a cherry wood pipe to match

stories of blood relations

unfurling in his pipe smoke

soothsayer

prince of our family

your memory I cherish

thoughts of you, on a faraway farm

just this side of a Kentucky heaven.

Bless and keep us through the days to come, uncle,

and thank you, kindly.

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Abelard and Heloise activism affectation Americana Anne Boleyn Art astrolabe astronomy atheism baseball writing battle beauty belief books California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales feminism festivities film forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude happiness health Hell history holidays horror human behavior humanity humor Hunter S. Thompson iconography infidelity insects Jazz journalism Kentucky kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love love poetry mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse mythology nature nightmares non-fiction ornithology pandemics papyrus parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory poetry politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religion religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings womens studies words writing

Ha!! Me, too…

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Abelard and Heloise activism Americana animals Anne Boleyn astrolabe astronomy baseball writing battle beauty belief bibliophilia biology books botany California cartography cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art digital photography divinity domestic violence drawing ecology education electoral process English epicuriosity epidemeology Europe fairy tales family fashion fauna feminism festivities fiction film food forensics fucking funerals furniture geneology geography girl stuff good reads government government and a lack thereof gratitude Halloween happiness health Hell history holidays human behavior iconography Jazz journalism kindness kinetics Lent life literature local color love poetry medicine mindfulness mortuary sciences mourning muse museums Music mythology nature non-fiction Ohio ornithology painting pandemics papyrus parenthood parenting Paris performance photography physics poetic theory politics pop culture produce psychology public broadcasting publishing punk puppies reading red hair in the morning, fucker grab a cab relationship studies relationships religious studies reproductive rights rituals romance science science writing seasons self-care self-love sex sexism sexuality shitty shit shooting stars Short Stories slang society sociology sociopathology Southern Gothic Southern Living suicide technology thanatology the arts The British Royal Crown theatre theism theology tomes traditions travel writing Uncategorized Urban Legends vice war waste weddings women words writing

Poof* Take MY water

https://youtu.be/eg2Kw1jIXOw

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activism addiction affectation Americana analysis astronomy belief cartography cemeteries Christmas chronology cinema civility coffee comedy comfort communication confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance death desserts destruction deviance digital art

no demons may cross my cumberland gap

you can’t get from her desert south west to kentucky

the archway of plenary indulgence is not her path

demons choked on fear and comeuppance lose their way

oh ye of little faith

was there ever any doubt

Jesus was from Elyria

that Ostara was from Kentucky

and that Lazarus was from Newark, NJ

but he got stuck in traffic for 10 years

on the high roads of rt. 80

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astronomy baseball writing belief comedy comfort festivities happiness

heartbeats once acoustic

sunlit green leaves flicker over
a cincinnati restaurant patio
sunday brunch amongst contemporaries

a skyline mural
of an astronaut
looking to the stars
above our heads
downtown buildings
turning toward the sun

glistening libations
sweatily klinking together
a toast made to the ending war
fully vaccinated folks
introducing themselves as such
shaking hands
faces aglow with possibility
shoulders swaying
to kettle drum music
masks off gently
seeing smiles
for the first time in a year
our festive nature quickening
heartbeats once acoustic
have gone electric

the gentleman at the table beside us explaining
upon reserving his table
he’d requested a framed picture of Bill Murray and a congratulations card for “Jeff”
to await his party upon arrival at their table
there is no Jeff of course
restaurants who agree to accommodate his request
are how he chooses where to dine
when traveling out of town

our laughter turning on
theatre marquee lights
no one interested in food
it’s spring

the whole city has tickets to a Redlegs game

we have survived the plague
everyone is tired of eating
tired of fearing
tired of dying
yet everyone
seems ready to fuck

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activism art astronomy behavior belief cemeteries destruction ecology epidemeology humanity journalism life mindfulness mythology nightmares pandemics poetry politics pop culture punk science writing shooting stars technology travel writing writing

Does this look infected?

who knew

the 6th mass extinction

on the planet

would be set into motion

not by a furious comet

instead thrown into chaos

by an insidious cloud

of misinformation

(que piano music)

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art belief cemeteries childhood Christmas chronology comfort dance death divinity fucking funerals happiness humanity life love poetry religion science science writing self-care shooting stars travel writing writing

travel writing

what we call eternity lasts

approximately 3 seconds

it is the state of a happy heart

at the moment of your death

as your brain powers down

the last thing it processes are images of

everything you ever loved

mercifully

that is our shared heaven