Set Timbre

Sadness setting

Cut to sadness begetting nightfall

and onward to sadness begot:

only befitting; the space between stars is obvious, but the spaces between spaces is how you continue to guide yourself home every night

to another night tucked but not stuck, and free to follow the fancies before you

before, you would just reach out and touch them, or whisper a slight, makeshift grin towards the upward-western sky

that always saw you. 

Now you dream askew - better than dreaming skewed, where the slanted world slips on its own icy surfaces; 

the surfaces where they’ll find you now awake, or find you non-waking in the colors rupturing their turbulence. 

The autumn respite:

a gray and grieving skyline

clutching to summer.

Weekly Movie Review: Hereditary (2018)

Zero: the amount of jump scares in this movie. Old school horror in in a new school setting. Shot beautifully - lighting and cinematography were flawless. Such disturbing imagery throughout without over-gorifying. Unexpected turns and lack of predictability were super refreshing. Would’ve liked a slightly better plot execution, buildup, and a tad more backstory, but otherwise, this highly anticipated movie did not disappoint me; finally something good to come out of the horror genre. 

8.5/10

Weekly Movie Review: Friend Request (2017)

Some of the death scenes were cool, the storyline was intriguing enough, but the acting was subpar and there was way too much over reliance on the jump scare.

3.5/10

Weekly Movie Review: Marrowbone (2017)

Great plot, well-acted, cast beautifully, intriguing storyline, gorgeous setting, decent twist, but lacked genuine scares. There were maybe 2 or 3 quasi-scary moments in the film, but ultimately fell short in the horror department.

6/10

Fictitious Capital

Driving across roads:

what are we; meandering

on this rock, alone.

Paper rain skips from paper clouds

in paper skies, but the paper flowers

never wilt and always smell like paper.

Sinking into our own private deaths

on Berber carpet - you’re sleeping in

a parking lot that’s still asleep.

Turning back time

after time has passed is a crumbling oak

tree across the street.

Crescent-moon soliloquy:

the book on the nightstand;

the stare from the stairs.

Seven yellows, six greens;

the rest is whatever will come

of your midnights

and no one will ever know who you are
when the sky ruptures.

Godric’s Hollow II

She’s unbound - stone deadbolts collapse in the monster’s nectary thunderstorm. In the monster’s nectary thundersnow there’s a wraith writhing beneath thirty motley crosses.

Beneath thirty motley crosses you and I have traveled ends and beginnings with wasted and neglected middles.

With wasted and neglected middles, thunderstorms of thundersnow envelop writhing wraiths and stone deadbolts shatter underfoot.

Recount: Sunday

The coldest room in the house

was on fire –

hollowed out of itself.

You were still sitting;

sitting still like a glacier

melting into me.

Trying to turn the fan

towards the smoke

and harrowing midnight.

The coldest room in the house

was a fire –

hallowed be thy flame.

I made no sounds of sleep

nor watched the fire crawl

across the ceiling, darkly.

The coldest room in the house

was afire –

unhallowed serpentflame specter.

We don’t know where we’ve been –

The knives: all alive:

you’re only just

awake.