small stones – March 17, 2016



“Renewed” Haibun

And so I do this. Strip off the layers of filth that clog my pores each and every day from the hatred, bigotry and self-righteous indignation. I take brush in hand and scrub and scrub until I bleed. Rub myself raw to give back to the Earth each cell of my being. Wrap myself in cold water, a shock back to reality. I am not the master here. I am merely Earth’s servant. As each lie I tell myself washes down the drain, I become renewed, rejuvenated and memory resurfaces. I am peace. I am love. I am.

from this earth I came
a babe of ignorant shame
to earth I return

to earth I return
renewed, rejuvenated
peaceful lamb once more

©2016 Lori Carlson. All rights reserved.


Faerie Departures

An ethereal telling of sibling love…
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Richard M. Ankers


Within a valley of frosted field,
where oak did twist beneath West wind,
a sea of grass did hide a prize
of fragmented Faerie Kingdoms.
A child made stumble fell and span
and in a heap did land, a wreck.
And one whom should have held her peace
not risen from that vaulted door
did so; she broke the pact, and would again.
The child who cried and spouted tears
as though in pain of anguish deep
did silence at the shimmering girl;
the one who saved her soul that day.
The mystic one made solace sweet
and swept the child away.
But o’er brow beyond clashing slopes
a brother saw his sister’s saviour.
He witnessed well the Faerie girl
with silvered wing and snowflake breath,
but chose that day to keep his peace.
N’er has a boy kept secret locked,
nor stoney silence not forgot,
as this poor boy…

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A Moment Too Late

Powerful poem about lost opportunities – amazing vivid images in this piece.
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I loved you
out of possibility,
out of chance
and uncoordination.

We crashed
a moment too late,
so “what ifs?”
became “should haves”
before we felt the stop,
the heart-pounding end
of the accident of us.

It’s the “too late”
that gets us,
that breathes doubts
and desires
into our lungs,
and it’s the possibility
that knocks
ten thousand cracks
into our skin,
into the facades
we so carefully crafted.

We were only
“could have been”
and that’s what kills us
every time.



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The Halls Are Empty

Powerful, raw, the heartache of lost love so well expressed.
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The caverns and hallways
are empty,
voided and denied,
desolate in their vastness.

I stepped,
walked through the shards
of worlds trapped
below the floor,
and I searched
for your hands,
for that embrace
shaped like summer streets,
like ocean walkways
and backway piers.

I tested out new paths,
different roads and boulevards,
but none felt like home,
like those ten minute storms
and that late night laughter
swelling in your lungs,
bursting from lips,
the ones that devoured me
with every kiss,
every breath
gliding against my skin.

None looked with
your eyes,
your heat,
your hands.
None saw
the way you saw,
the way you’ve always
seen me.

Without you,
I’m left with



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“Equal are we that choose to be”

A beautiful love poem on equality.
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Karl's Blog

I have chosen this path with diligence

Leaving not a covering of guilt or strife

Walk with me where spirits enlighten

Filling hearts with joyful sounds

Amidst this chaotic realm of fear

Looking even deeper we will find

We can be as one with one another

Standing arm in arm despite our differences

“Equal are we that choose to be” by Rellick

Image: Pinterest

Copyright © Rellick’s Writings/2006 all Rights Reserved

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Requiem to Goodbye

Beautiful, haunting poetry.
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Richard M. Ankers


A state of flux,

The transition from birth to life to death.

Yet, here I am beyond,

Changed, but not.

Ensconced in night,

Wrapped in shade,

I mull over a soul departed,

Whilst my essence remains.



Midnight has renewed

What midday sort to strip,

Obsidian obliterated gold.

And although I feel nothing,

Wish for nothing,

Would die for nothing, except, except…

There is still you.

Yes, you.

I would slaughter it all

For you;

Ride infinity’s tides

For you;

Kill all,

For you.

I would tear down eternity,

Strip away time,

Repaint the universe crimson

And laugh at the stars.

I would.

I could.

I will.

Yet, I pause.

Incisors hover, halt, retract,

Cannot strike,

Cannot bring you back,

Return and rebuild you,

My Immortal, the one I have found after so long.

I won’t.

I can’t.

I shan’t.

Love remains.

Love forces my hand.

And, as…

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