HeyJaredghost among herbs
I am a tree. More specifically, I’m a tree that writes fiction, poetry, poetic prose, dream and astral travel accounts, imaginal essays, and whatever else comes to mind.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 12
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 25, 2026
Latest issues
Poem by Nimoz - 25 September 2026 B (opens the original)
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an insistent birdendeavors to convincea disbelieving worldof the dawnthe day isa golden fishabsent-mindedand drowsybird callsrippleslight on the cresta waveraised red feathersyou seethey all live in three dimensionsdifferent elementssame languagecan time be convinced of its passing?the cardinal on the branchhasn’t given up
Poem by Nimoz - 18 September 2026 B (opens the original)
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the barely rememberedsoon impossible to recallonly i rememberi was my grandfather’sgrandchildor that i have his eyessoon it will slip from my mind’stenuous netthe thought of beingmy grandmother’s grandchildand that i have her hairwill slip outlike a silver fishback into the stony-bottomed streami’m not even myselfi’m someone elseremembering mealreadyi am about to wriggle freefrom the hooki will findthat the whole worldi
Poem by Etu Silved - 11 September 2026 (opens the original)
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hidden in the foldsbetween airand adjacent airare worlds completebetween the branchand the leafbetween the stoneand the same stoneunfold the skyunwrap the cliffsbe a wind in the curtainsa Möbius landcontinuoussee the big worldsand the little oneswhich are just one nestand fold it back gentlywhen you are donekiss woundsmend tearsorigami worlda plane of the possiblepleated with
Organ (opens the original)
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Air across the folds. Along the textures and granularities. Muscle. Membranes. Flesh in various configurations. The bellows pump. The apertures open and close. Organs undulate. A pattern. A rhythm. An instrument, obscene in appearance.A wind from somewhere. It’s a cooler wind than yesterday. It blows through the branches of the big courtyard trees. Across the surfaces and ridges. The leaves are dryer than yesterday. Duller. Lustreless.The same wind blows across sticky, sun-tormented skin. It is
Poem by Nimoz - 4 September 2026 B (opens the original)
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every birdhas a final flightmy heart is an endlingi live for what i lovei rememberthe silent songof a broken music boxthe way that house lookedin 1999before time cashedits rain checkcat’s eyes in many colorsi remembermeeting my heroin the kaleidoscopic foldsi rememberthat i wished for youand that you came truei rememberyouwhen i go extinctwill my love remainfor awhilelike an empty n
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