Black Lily Pad - poem and photo by: Erickson Solo celebratingAs confidence displaysYour name on my phone screen.Unbolded asA cloud. White textFloats on a black lily pad bubble.Loving lightlyWith a weightI plan the date. Thank you for reading "Black Lily Pad", subscribe for more poetry, travel, and creative writing content
American Diner Doors Open and photograph by: Erickson Helter-skelter stainless-steel smearsUpon a bopped-open butter bin.Maybe mapleBut frustrated fructose syrupSpits on signs,Gashes its gallops on paneled oak cabinets.—Across the street?—Bright Groceries.Oranges popping, looking at you like oversized eyeballs Under prices and lettering in bold.Prices in bold.—The street?—Long roadsLittered with signs designed for the American eye.Selling fried... Continue Reading →
Lab Grown Diamond by Erickson // Painting: les vessenots en auvers by Van Gogh Excuses sneakand wrap you in their diamondslike a snake.The stomach hisses.The feeling of reaching for your missing phone — arm as an Other,and a feather hand makes for an ill approach.You’re addicted.The scramble in your chestis a realization —“you are not... Continue Reading →
W.W. Cubism and photograph by: Erickson Smoke Whispered Through the tongue. Logical v i b r a t i o n s whittle The bones, sharpening them To the c ur ve d sticks of harps and bows. Suggestions bubble violent. Among the music, Language is condensed, like milk In rotten, dripping a rust can.--------Sh—ou-----t------s.---... Continue Reading →
Tag, you were it and photograph by: Erickson I guide you,like a childteaching another a new game.Finally, we are clay:Who would have knownOur original wonderHad been baking all along?Warm winter nightsAs full as summer days.Before I memorized the wrinklesaround your eyes:Braille poetry when you smile.And so I became the sunrise,to shine into our unknown for... Continue Reading →
Home is...(a Different Hue) and photograph by: Erickson The sun slips her colors.Orange-pink uplifts gray clouds And green-yellow encourages frothy waves. These are the same days our ancestors found ground,Home is home is home.The city presses us close, to ponder. Dark towers dissolve into skies — blue and black, Like Stephen King, us, with pens... Continue Reading →
Home is... (slipping colors) and photography by: Erickson The sun slips her colors.Orange-pink uplifts gray clouds And green-yellow encourages frothy waves. Home is home is home. Each sunset and sunrise,The waxing and waning,The height of the swing, versus the momentum of a fall,Is a human fingerprint. The city allows us to ponder. Dark towers ending... Continue Reading →
"imprint" and photography by: EricksonLips crisp to a close.The hum of the bus – clunk, clunk – forms a ritual.Moving is slow, deliberate,In dark-blue air.Bodies are within reach – White fingerprints on chrome-plated steel meet me.Yet distance,Almost homesickness,Is enemy.The ember glow – dim and forgotten,Reaches from the rear passenger cabin.We stand, among others absorbed in... Continue Reading →
"Untitled" by: Erickson Centuries lay before you.Nude. Scarred, save for thin protective layer-A spider’s web thrown to the wind. It's a whisp that allows us to breathe. Color draws into pupils- Rising sun, crumbling leaves, architecture climbing heights. Squint. Step back. Move forward—trace the design, its slow rotation.An intricate fashion has been made.But does all... Continue Reading →
El Retiro del Verano – Poem and Photography by: Erickson Friendship, beautiful and brief as a rose petal. The flowers line the walkways-Candy apple red sprouts from rich dark greens.Paths of raised stones litter the journey- Gray yet bold and protruding.I step on stone:Winds whisper again And deaf ears reanimate. Home lingers on red lips.Murmurs... Continue Reading →
Writing Erickson - Adventure + Writing Blog 