Marrow’s Mediocrity

Photographer — Francesca Woodman


Marrow’s Mediocrity
100 Words

Having met life’s fate in the winter of my youth, I’ve lived my passions in pursuit of the truth. Stigma and fear jailed my beliefs, keeping my love under lock and key, found near starvation in rags of hand-me-downs, sucking on pebbles to silence the hunger, blocking the ritual: speaking in tongues. Necromancy of the resurrection, all memories have since fallen away, swirling as leaves on a tempestuous day. Vacant lots of strange-strangers: the half-past dead, unknowing stand-ins for what’s ahead. While waiting for the Four Winds to carry me away, I’m wondering — what’s the weight of a human soul?


“I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am.”
― René Descartes

Hindi Zahra – “
Don’t Forget


Needle & Thread

Photographer Ilse Bing — Poster, Henry VIII, 1934


Needle & Thread
The Glue That Binds Us

Charred sentiment dispensed
The remains of our days,
Spent: cleaved away
As leaves torn of paper.

Distant memories engaged
The feeble free fall
End over end;
Tumbled as pigeons
Latched together
With arms open.
We headed towards
Eliot’s perpetual April;
Never gave thought
To the tire of love.
Youth’s newness: blind elation
Staved off the wolves of reality.
Salt of the earth
Took leave, our loss;
We pushed the pieces forward.

Soiled uniforms
Dressed in suits of grace,
Cumbersome and too large,
We traced our paths
Again and again;
With dogged determination
We dragged ourselves

Through foot worn ruts.
In the end, we realized
There would be no phoenix
To rise f
rom the ash.


“It may have been in pieces, but I gave you the best of me.”
― Jim Morrison

Hindi Zahra – “At The Same Time”