To bring

The April showers Have chunks of ice, Leaflets of snow and some Heavenly grit That hits the newly thawed ground With its shy blades of grass Like an unwelcome surprise. The wedding-happy sparrows Do not care, they fret And they leap, picking On the small seeds And each other, they Are not bothered as the […]

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ko vairs atceros*

vējš parauj smiltis un pērnās lapas un kūlas stiebrus vecos kapos un kopto pagalmu kaktos, kur kaķi, vārnas un lustīgi sīļi svin pavasari starp gandrīz dīgstošām zīlēm, snieg- pulkstenēm un dažiem purpura krokusiem puspavērtiem. virpuļo sīkumi, skaidas saskaitās pulkos, pārlec žogiem, dzīviem un stiepļu rombiņos sapītiem, vīnogu- lāju noklātām zvirbuļu laktām, aizšvīkst līdz strazdu amata […]

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subtly against

I have this against the world, one white bird, cut in the indigo sky, changing, banking left and write in the wind that feels nothing. One white bird, an avian denominator, coming forth between then and here to steer straight into the sun and burn. Cut in the indigo sky, changing the music of planes, […]

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mazas baltas gaismiņas*

Kārklu pelēkie zari audzē sīkas baltas gaismiņas miklā muklāju miglā pīles skrien prīkšķēdamas. Nav tā, ka dienās un arī naktīs ir vieglāk; nāk mēneši balti, nāk logā asi izgriezti putni; kļavās būvējas žagatu pāŗi – jau trešie mūsu rajonā. Ko viņas zags, kad atnāks mazie, un saule spēlēsies siltos staros? Migla daudz biežāk aizdūmo jumtus […]

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barely infinite

If the mood were subjunctive, I’d wake up and rise to another plane in the multiverse. I’d love you to pieces, and then rearrange them by the North wind in patterns of three, not four and instantly regret all the moving. I’d shake, not stir my thoughts, scattered across simple grammars and embedded clauses so […]

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contest

green, black, round, fragrant, sweet — unattached, ready to roll. between your fingers, almost bursting — thin skin, juicy, small. pick them up one by one, lift — firmly, not letting go. they will obey, each one in its place — collapse in agony, bleed. onto your tongue, simple sugars, sap — nutrients you need. […]

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unpunctuated

empty, I resonate with the song of the trees when the white swans mutely pass high and northwards like a drum, tight and trembling I open my self to the stick that will percuss me and further my air to the other side I’ll roll empty along Ðunnor’s path the hard heaven above into the […]

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by your word

stretch out your hand reach out through the blind wall that surrounds the sandy beach in a snowstorm that might or might not be your innermost being your heart: a fisherman tired beyond description of eternal washing of nets dead fish and seaweed rotten birds and shells and plain simple dirt tired of catching the […]

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infinities dance

Your left, my right, Shadows play, Stretch out a hand — Stomp. Up and down remain Relatively the same, Your right, my left, Whatever it is, is Not a shadow, truth — Breathe. Talk to them Through mirrors, You will need at least Two. One will invert, One will turn back, and so to infinity […]

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Ziema kā ziema

Ir tālums blāvs Un debess gaiši zila, Un koku pirksti Sarmā balti stāv Vēl vēja nav, Un saule slīpiem stariem No sniega atlec Priežu skujās degt Tu taku min Un zilas pēdas paliek Starp kūlas kušķiem Sērsna trausla dzinkst Un nerūp vairs Ne līčloči, ne virziens Kad soli solī Brienu taviem līdz Kur tālums blāvs […]

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Pale green and orange

Pale green, then orange Flash upon black. Something white flutters — The ground is touched. The ground trembles Ever so slightly, to open The eyes of tulip-tubers And daffodils, snowdrops And those little seeds forgotten By sparrows and the occasional squirrel. Orange is not true, only Grown under a glass roof In a micro-world, attended […]

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cup half–

the sky was undercast, the weather suddenly clement, couth birds chirped underhead and crows were so caring. trees, inrooted by ages threw down witness in standstill dressed their branches in nothing, eyes widely shut. some gainly adolescents shared a pipe of war, snowdrops looked on-white whilst the first shoots turned purple like the sun setting […]

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a pale view of gulls

it’s snowing again making the sky pale some featherly, some finely ground flakes obscure the antics of all the world’s seagulls rejoicing in flight white on white, and grey upon grey outlined by black pinions the gulls soar avoiding the descent of criss-cross crystals whilst the very indistinct crows hold on to the weeping branches […]

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metaphysically speaking

this is a fictional place it does not exist in the real world, no you have to enter through platform Imagination, 3/4 of unreality. walk right at the border between what you see and what is, close your unbelief firmly and step into adventure 5/4 within your heart. and now, open up to the light […]

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the days will grow longer

the trees wore white like brides of the hoarfrost, standing tall under the veil of the pale cloud-intoned sky. not only the pines, birches and maples, and lindens, and aspens, even the spruces had dressed their hands in white spikes to pierce the shorter days of the year. an unobtrusive sun peeked over the treeline […]

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zvirbuļu koŗi

tāpēc, ka bija balts, vārnas saēdās sāli; no vadiem pelēki skaitījās zvirbuļu koŗi. neaiztiec balto, nevajag — kaut kā sanāca noklusēt; vārnas salēca aplītī, aizrautīgi ķērkdamas. gaisā pajuka mākoņi: baloži ieradās miglā, apkārt drudžaini kasījās, nesaprata, ka nomirs. agrāk vai vēlāk, nāc putnus barot vai baidīt — pēdas sniegā un spārnu raksti tiem apkārt ieliks […]

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clatter

when you slipped,  the roof went off unpredictably leaving a large chunk uncovered. your trousers ripped, letting in the cold, wet whiteness which wanted to freeze, too. what a soundless feat — the mist twirled hungrily, ready to swallow you whole. the ground was quicker. it took you in with a thud and there, bushy-tailed, […]

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dust

Like diamonds, you Threw ice crystals in the air For the sun to illuminate And play with rainbows. I stopped in my tracks, Unknowing, out of breath, Blinded. Your wind ran wild Making the twigs and branches Shed small icicles all over And the ground turned frosty. I blinked, it was a first Love uncovered, […]

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inversijas

Uzraksti mani otrādi  Ar krītu uz pelēkas tāfeles Dienā kad avoti kurina Miglu bezlapu ielejās Spoguļrakstā ievelc Visas diakritiskās zīmes Kamēr vārnas ķērkuļo Zarus ligzdās pīdamas Visu pilnīgi ačgārni Saber kā papīra turzā Dienā, kad gulbji aizlido Sniegu nākotnē brēkdami Lai turzas saturu sakratot Pēkšņi izmainās sintakse Kamēr strazdi kladzina Tumsā kašķīgi skriedami Uzraksti mani […]

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green peppered with white

the clouds shook, the green hair of the sod got peppered with white, — and then only the tips, green over grey, stiff in the breeze, unmoving. the knife in my hands, sticky with what oranges produce, the sharp spray in my nostrils, stopping, for a moment, what revolves in the dark. i open mīn […]

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Malduguns

Kad debesu svins miltos pārtop, Kad domas slīd, slepeni kāšos kārdamās, un aizplēn nenosauktas — Egles un vientuļi vītoli pastiepj mūžīgu zaļumu iepretim blāvu mākoņu atspulgiem. Vēl solis. Veļi veļas kamolos, kopus nes sniega putekļos tumšu zemeņu smaržu (ak, piedegušās vasaras). Nāc, teci kā malduguns atmiņu purvājos, visus akačos aizvildams, kamēr debesu dzirnas maļ, maļ, […]

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not raining too much

tremor. black fingers extend from hands broken at the end of dark arms, limbs, crowded by fallen leaves, unattached, doomed to flopping along as the wind sings, threshing the empty floors. again. beat black fingers from broken hands against the dark limbs outstretched onto the pale mists sheathing silent moonrays. Once more. faintly grow into […]

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mēnessdārzs

tulznainām rokām, miglu locīdams, šonakt mēness iestāda dārzu. koku kailumam, rudens gājumam tumsā dzied mākoņu skrējiens. švīku švīkādams, lapas mētādams, šonakt vējš pagalmos bizo. ledus kristālos, sīki kaisītos, pelēka gaisma vizuļo. nobristām kājām, tīti dūmakā, veļi šonakt atceļu meklē. sveci iededzis, uguni piesedzis, atveŗu sirdi par dakti. šonakt mēness iestāda dārzu, šonakt vējš pagalmos bizo, […]

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irreverently

that one thing for certain — all in existence stands firm against passing — like buttercups in the middle of streams transient, fragile, willing to do what it takes to survive. little yellow-headed stalks breaking the running crystal, etching the neverending V for Vita brevis est, for victory, for the day when silence burns sunlight. […]

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before coffee

bacon and eggs on the table I stare at all the forks and the knives None fits. the radio blares through from whatever neighbours cook All Russian. enmugged coffee vapes at me promising clarity, haven, and tells Strong smell. someone bangs their door early out in the morning mists Sun’s head.

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