GUEST POST // I Move Among Them by Shawn M. Young

Little pebbles dripping,
running window panes,
and I breathe in the lust
of drudgery as each pull
their path to the sill, still
I am, lump and frump,
while the grass grows
to the moon, and each
moment of solitude I
age eons waiting for a
final change, awakening
and finally awake, like
this place, nestled among
fields of corn, the safest
I have yet to feel since
birth long ago, when
no one was there and I
was left to wonder woe

© All rights reserved 2022

eggshells & darker nights

a slip of flame wags like a red-tailed fox
o’er candlewick sill in the moonlight box
sets ghost birds aflight in lucent flocks
o’er vespertine forest and druidic rocks

the road yonder runs thither throughout the ages
its footprints tell the story of hatchling sages
from trees bedangled with their birthing cages
open, in spirals, zig-zagging in stages

no questions, no answers, just a mystery play
of knotted roots, weaved wood and branching splay
and the thin, shrill cry of a sleepless jay
from dusk covered verdure and vertebrae

© All rights reserved 2021

i may never

you died in the month of may, didn’t you
when you slipped and fell from the dead god’s hand
you knew then that you’d only led yourself astray
that silence was not the only silence

and all you could think to say
how is my life not mine
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

you’re the once and ever failure, aren’t you
you never could shine as bright as they
all crafted jewel and curated moments
superior vessels built for purpose

and all you could think to say
how are these tears divine
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

you’re the shadow that shrank behind, so you
became harrowed when tracing your heart song
and moths stole along, they ate your pockets
and then all of your dreams trailed sore away

and all you could think to say
i am the last of my kind
never have i deserved to die
never was i requested to live

© All rights reserved 2018

a Mess on the sky (Fragment #029)

It was a mess on the sky…

I was designated for the visual arts. I was accurately planned but I was impatient. I was fidgeting and knocking. Our breed was losing its own positions at an alarming rate. My parents were studying tarot, the manuscripts and natal charts thoroughly… they couldn’t goof again. I was made with a mechanical precision. A day, an hour… Yuck! I don’t even want to imagine this sterile and dull process!

Sun Opposition or Square Pluto.
Mercury Sextile or Trine Neptune.

The degrees, the angles, the seconds. It was a big mess on the sky.

Pluto had a hangover syndrome. Why? It was because of… Hey! It’s not your funeral! I promised to keep this secret! Venus, like every woman, was running late. Mars, as always, was on the routine of war…

Uranus came first. He sat with Scorpio and smoked. “Your generation is noted for their willingness to dispel social taboos of all kinds. You push the boundaries of accepted behavior. Fanaticism is a common trait in your generation.”

Jupiter and Cancer. I don’t like either of them. I’m usually playing hooky during their lectures… “Your warmth and willingness to accept all people for who they truly are makes even the most inhibited people feel comfortable around you. You strive to bring those who feel disenfranchised from life back into the fold of humanity.”

Wow! Bingo! Venus and Mars came! “Your powerful emotions make you a lover of the arts as well. You feel music and art speaks to you. Generally beauty of any kind has an affect on you.” “Because you feel you are a natural leader you do much better giving orders than you do taking them.”

It was a hellish mess on the sky! 

I appeared without warning. Uranus dropped his tobacco pipe. Scorpio and Cancer stopped playing chess. Venus squealed. Only Mars, like a true warrior, was calm and gazed at Venus’s boobs. I was accurately planned. I was designated for the visual arts. But I was impatient. My parents fucked up again. (to be continued)

© All rights reserved 2014

My special thanks to Cyan Ryan
for the grammar corrections and improvement this essay!


I like thinking underwater… and in the darkness. The most splendid thoughts visit my head in the bathroom at nights. It’s impossible to imagine an infinite quantity of the great ideas that I had during my nine months bathing in warm amniotic fluid.

But my long hard way through the birth canal… my primeval shock when I met with the external world for the first time… It erased this layer of my memory. Completely.

I know that now I can spend all my life attempting to recall… in miserable and unavailing efforts to turn diamond dust into diamonds.

But I have a whole life for it… and I will.

© All rights reserved 2014