Group Collaboration #2 / 2015


In a pile
of old postcards
a brand new moon

©2015 Traci Siler
Twitter Link / @demlips
Facebook Link
Traci Siler Art


While there is time…

The moon has faded in the clouds
precious light has washed away..
I’ll let the windblown leaves
show me the way

©2015 Roger Zowie
(These are lyrics to his song, While There Is Time, which you may listen to here: Soundcloud)
Facebook Link
Twitter Link / @berlymahn


The dark sorrows of past often break me apart…
But hope still holds deep in my heart…

I have been hurt million times
Yet I dare to move forward..
Just to find the drop of Love
As I wander through the darkness
But follow lights of the moon

©2015 Aditya Sachan
Facebook Link


The Rising

On these shores,
lovers, loyal only to
each other,
amorously contemplate into
the nebulous swirls
of their stimulated eyes.

The lunar edge
with its cosmic, astral ways
the empty bottles
howling on the dunes.

Ashes from torch-lit aisles
spiral away
from the voices
that are gathered here
to celebrate
the rising of the moon.

©2015 Hugo Quizhpi
Facebook Link
Twitter Link / @hugopix


My gratitude to these wonderful friends and writers, for their contributions. Their participation is a joy to me.

“Remember” / A Collaboration with Cara Long



© 2015 Cara Long / Spoken Word and Video Creation @Very_very_red

© 2015 Diana Matisz / Photography

“there are reasons…” / A Collaboration with Edward J. Rinaldi

IMG_2565_2564there are reasons you call me to the dark

accountability, pocket smooth stone assurances
things that made me feel comforted
and secure in your not knowing
an answer to a question
I never could get rid of…

here is where the poem begins…

take off my skin
and leave your
divinity alone…

clothing torn hastily cast
present the future
a silhouetted past
muscle and bone…
tell me what are you
shamanic references
songs in hoarfrost
climbing an old pane…

are you what used to be
a boiler to bedroom story
more empty than lore be
what is right now…
we both dream
wide awake
mistaking something
often enough
to know nothing
is really worth
taking stock in…

what is it the rain
as snow wants to be
sticky wickets to fences
and spiny armed trees…
your tongue, my fingers…
my wishes as well as my knees…

perhaps it is
every one of these
trials, tributes
and remembering
if we are
to be human
we must
always do
what we can
to be pleased

©2015 EJR

I posted this photograph on Facebook yesterday to show my sister (who is currently in the south) what she’s been missing at home. Minutes later, Edward sent an email to me with a poem for it. He’s a remarkable writer. If you haven’t read him, please check out the links below to do so.

the blind lantern

“Reckless Abandon” / Spoken Word Collaboration with Cara Long

This is my most recent spoken-word collaboration with Cara Long, @Very_very_red. I had sent Cara a series of photographs I’d taken in an abandoned apartment building that was scheduled for renovation. I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to photograph the rooms before much of the renovation had begun. Cara has captured the “feel” of the house perfectly. Her writing is a sublime mix of dark and light. She also has a book available at Amazon and you will find it here Partly Gone.

For anyone interested, the complete set of photographs can be seen here: 310 10th Street


“Groceries” by Cara Long

I recently sent some photographs to Cara Long @Very_very_red for her use with some of her short stories. She surprised me today by creating a spoken word video, with one of her short stories and a few of my photographs.
Such a lovely surprise, on this blustery winter day in Pittsburgh.

“He asks me where my thoughts are…”


“He asks me where my thoughts are, but I can’t say.
I mean, I don’t really know.
What I do know is that the sky has turned grey,
and the roof may be leaking.”

©2015 Cara Long


This is a first-time collaboration with Cara. We met through Twitter and her words and my photographs seem to have taken a liking to each other. More collaborations are planned for the future but in the meantime, please check out the links below to her Twitter page as well as the link to her first published short story collection, Partly Gone, at Amazon.


Partly Gone

Group Collaboration #1 / 2015


Walking a tightrope
Between bottle and safety
Addict clown smile smeared.

©2015 Kerry E.B.Black
Kerry’s Facebook Link


 passing stranger the shiver of a second glance

©2015 Sandi Pray
Sandi’s Facebook Link


Under Glass

Bought from a shop
At some out of the way stop
No one remembers where

But seldom displayed
Always seeming second rate
Not worth dusting

Now under glass
Well a discarded window
First stop to their last stop
The county dump

©2015 Gary Blankenship
Gary’s Facebook Link


Endless smiles, laughs and fun were always part of me.
Even when I was alone…my toys were always part of me.

My steps were tiny and failing, yet destiny was part of me.
Questions were fun, and curiosity was part of me.

I was a child and I was Happiness, and you were part of me.

©2015 Aditya Sachan
Aditya’s Facebook Link


nights quiet tightrope
in guillotine grey
not narcissus

©2015 Cat Cray


On The Shelf

It doesn’t matter what was
supposed to be, or what came first,
or last, I simply wish
you had something more to say.

The bottles on the shelf
are still there, but you and I know
there isn’t enough left
to tame this flooding delirium.

Some matters remain the same–
ashes, insomnia,
and abstract desires in boots
without a place to go.

©2015 Hugo Quizhpi
Hugo’s Facebook Link

“the poem of vitamin you”… by Edward Rinaldi


I see
you might have
had tea already
light toast
whole grains
perhaps some fruit
has gained
a taste of you too
it is Monday
and another week
is starting
clouds, snow and
talking to the poem
through you

©2015 EJR
the blind lantern

#1 / 2015 … “how odd”

6551881ahow odd
that I thought of you today
you, the lover I took
in Key West
how odd
that I should stand there,
shivering in the polar light
of a northern winter,
and blush
how odd
that this forgotten piece
of  summer,
in its glorious and fiery decay,
should remind me
of love

Life Through Blue Eyes / 2014 in Review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.


Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,300 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Collaboration #6 / 2014


Confounding humanity/ Through the eyes of a wolf

©2014 Narcisse Navarre

Ebon et Noir: Emporium Antiquaire
Facebook Link


electric crow aperture

the macrobiotic symbiosis is
a valley tongue sprung
from old mountains
cut by the will
of water over time

seeking our indulgences
rivers, ribbons and slivers
of civilized humanity
form stored trines
storied wax, waded brines
farms and other arms
of domesticated wild

daughters of millers
and fleet footed gods
make deals
for the parts
of themselves
that can never
be changed

sight for a nose
kites for fingers

tide after tide
archetypes and
the shiny things
stick to stealing
keys and memories
to feed the bleed
and churn of seasons

we reason
we collect our nostalgia
to know the empty
of a now on another day

we undergo throes
on journeys
of a caught captured
in someone’s blink
of an eye

where one understands
a universe can find
you sent a sent along too

©2014 Edward J. Rinaldi

the blind lantern
Facebook Link


In my dreams and deep in my soul…
I miss something…which I called home.

As I get older…and the memories fade,
All I remember is my dear ones…standing in shades.

©2014 Aditya Sachan

About Me / Aditya Sachan
Views On Everything
Facebook Link


Who knew
this diamond view
could still be seen
after all these years
hard work and tears.

Who knew
this diamond view
could provide so much
through hot summers
blistered hands,
calloused but gentle touch
tending these lands.

Who knew,
this diamond view
could be multi-faceted
life long
loving strong.

I know now
how valuable you are
as I pass forth this diamond
for your heart to see
after all these years
hard work and tears
please remember the love of me.

©2014 April Higney




I wonder

if that old barn
is still standing

I can almost
see it

in a rough-sewn
diamond vignette

December day

when he
carried me home

caught my
long white dress
on the barbed
wire fence

I wonder

if our old wounds
and my mother’s
heirloom lace

still lie somewhere

bare woodland

beneath a
crescent roof

and moonless

©2014 csmoon

Letters To The Moon
Facebook Link


The Barn

an abandoned barn
abandoned field
overgrown forest

a lovers hideaway
cold bed of bales
blood-dark trough

by her husband
before their lips met

©2014 Gary Blankenship

Facebook Link


Sometimes I wonder if Cat
sees the same things I do
when he and I emerge from the brush
behind the house.
I see where She keeps family,
hearth and home, where
she sweeps away my cares,
calms my anger, offers her affection
as easily she sweeps
crumbs off its floor. I’m sure
Cat sees that warm place
where someone places crumbs
along the Warm Room floor’s
baseboard as bait on the trail
to the mouse Happy Hunting Ground.
But maybe he, too, sees the place
where she offers the miraculous hands
that soothe, that encourage,
that express love
in their housework roughness and
angel softness.
Maybe I’m wrong
and Cat sees what I see after all.
The Place of Hands where
Woman stokes our ferocity and
strokes us to domesticity.

©2014 Joseph Hesch

A Thing For Words
Facebook Link


My deep and abiding gratitude to these poets and to so many others, over the last year, who were kind enough to share their poetry with my photographs. You make my blue eyes, sing.

“the knot that was her heart…”


the knot that was her heart
her once unfettered heart
the knot, woven
of silken endearments
and the fabric of distance
the knot that was her heart
her bound and maddened heart
the knot, no reason
could undo


“the calligraphy…”

“October wind…”

dscn9346aOctober wind
lifts the curtains
in the window
turning the bedroom into
a torrid flutter of mayhem
and incarnadine ambush
just as suddenly
I realize,
that I must burn the same,
from a mere spark
in your eyes

Collaboration #5 / 2014


I found
a seraphim’s
silver thumbnail
on the railroad track
reflecting ghost of past

I was only looking for my lucky penny

©2014 Steve Schultz
Facebook Link


The Watchmaker God
left a seed
with a new universe

©2014 Alethea Eason
The Heron’s Path


 Infinitely small but existing.
I am here! I am here!
Cries my reflection.

©2014 Edwynna Roach
Facebook Link


 A shiv-ling
reflection of our lives
reminds us of what we are
and the purpose of life

©2014 Aditya Sachan
Views on Everything
Facebook Link


 a reflection
of me
that I set

©2014 June O’Reilly
Facebook Link



all that’s left here
is a mere hint
of us

splintering images
in glinting silver

buried deep

with the ghosts
we engraved
on brushed metal
and a bed of oak

our allegiance
creeps up
like leafy poison
from the forest floor

small tendrils
of treason
and burnt colours
stretch us toward
the wretched

sweeps in
like a silent movie
in Sepia

as splitting bark
marks the fall
of another

dying season

©2014 Christi Moon
Letters to the Moon
Facebook Link


dreamy visions of
Another world place and time
Dreams of far away

©2014 Nicole Jordan
Facebook Link
NMJ Photography and Poetry

“when i was his flower child…”

“he said, love…”

“tonguing the shards”


the window knew
knees and pleas
gathered lambs ears
silk and wine
every lust filled

we became what
our shadows wanted
to play with
poured soul
slow tided
to empty

©2014 Edward Rinaldi

I posted this photograph on my photo-a-day journal at  Edward spied it and fired off this short poem to go with it. This prolific writer and dear friend never ceases to amaze.

the blind lantern

“She conducted me, a spirit in love”


we have doubles
triples, quadruples
and other accordion parts
waiting and wanting
to stretch and bend
today into tomorrow
smelling of yesterday

the hologram
never minds
what part
you jump in
and out of

©2014 Edward Rinaldi

the blind lantern

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