388. Out

About the truth… You can try to keep it down, But in the end you’ll paint the town,  Will bile and brilliant truth. (Photo – Eli Woodbine, Toronto, 2016) 

330. Hay

I wrote this haiku about these hay folks I saw the other day… Hey, lazy no-bones,  Your stuffed skulls are dead to love, Hay, is all they are.  (Photo – Eli Woodbine, Canada, 2016) 

289. Next up

About how the closer I get to completing something big, I’m ever-more seduced to start something new…  Focus is easy right?  Just keep eyes on the prize, A Pulitzer, Maybe Nobel? Or just Grammy, Or hell, Just getting this done is a prize in itself, If it wasn’t for shiny ideas. Things I could start…

269. Wild

The sirens call of the wild is a lustful, alluring sound that I’ve grown quite accustomed to over the years. It echoes through dense forestry, floats soothingly over open plains and splashes quietly with every wave that hits the beach shore. I wrote this micropoem about the call of the wild.  Come play, she beckons, …

191. Look

Of all the people I know, almost all of the most sensitive, emotional and soulful share a similar penchant for visual self expression. They are united by a shared appreciation of vibrance, colour, exuberance and freedom of self-expression. I wanted to summarise my thoughts with these words.  Louder hair, oft-quieter voice  Stronger colour, weaker scream, …

183. Comic

I visited an independent comic book convention in Toronto the other day. It was as fascinating as it was humbling. The labours of these artists, sometimes maligned as childish by popular media, are intricately honed interpretations of the world. Beautiful projections of inner truth, through a medium that combines visual art with written word. I…