Category: art

Rotary

jamie forest hunt2 Comments

i push my finger in

like a boy tests the water

with his foot

like a coward

.

i twirl the cord in my hand

like a girl twists her curls

into the contort and curves of a slide

like an angel

.

the phone must be full of crickets

the hum is light and warm:

icecream on Sunday nights

beach towels and chlorine

.

the wheel spins- it is

the loading of a gun

that only i wish would

squirt

.

i am connected to God.

Her voice is tired and kind

a Lion in the Sun

dazed and unbothered

.

i continue to wrap the rope

of an age long past

around my fourth finger-

and Hang

Up.

long time no see.  i’ve been working on a painting for art, as shown above.  it’s of the potamac.  i took it while the trees were still autumn-dusted.  the poem was fun to write, it kinda just happened.  critiques are cool.  do what you want. comment what you want.  have a good night.

Work In Progress: Birdwatcher

jamie forest hunt2 Comments

Howdy.

I’m currently working on a short story called “Birdwatcher”.  I didn’t want to release it yet, because I felt like I needed more time to fully explore the personality of the main character.  So, instead, I’ll tease a little bit for you, and tell you about my writing process.

The story follows an unnamed main character, who wakes up really early every day to pray, or, more mediate.  He has recently gotten out of the hospital, and is trying to convalesce in the face of his constant fatigue.  His only remedy for his exhaustion is birding.

My plan is to romanticize the nuances of morning rituals, and also to praise the action of overcoming the weariness that life can place on you.  I find it very important to find happiness in small things, and to commemorate the amount of effort it takes to stay healthy.

I hope you all will enjoy it, stay tuned!

Love,

jamie

For Miles

jamie forest hunt1 Comment

For miles, Mountains

Mountains trim the plain

as bark does the fallen plank

sap bleeds from wooden vein

like the frozen river runs south

 

For miles, paw prints

scurrying and limping off

Trudging through the permafrost

Something sharp meets something soft

Scampering to the river’s mouth

 

For miles, running

Past reclining fermented log

Through the ponds and through the frogs

Under the frozen waterfall’s fog

Into the cavern up north

 

For miles, deep

Underneath the rooted Earth

Hibernates life that needs a hearth

But mercy costs more than it’s worth

Here it lies praying for warmth.

 

For Miles, Mountains

Do not forgive-  And Miles,

They know how to get you best

When you expect it least

 

 

 

wash up

jamie forest huntLeave a comment

i don’t recognize You anymore.
i haven’t since the fall.
i look in the mirror and see apathy
hanging like swaying fruit

golden hay draped Your face
and Your hugs were like if
a vestal campfire could
warm your soul.

petal-pink bloomed among Your skin
like the knockout roses did
in Your mother’s garden
soft and smooth and unharmed.

blue-jays nested in Your eyes.
azure lovebirds sprang and danced
and sung a tune that is now
long forgotten.

i haven’t been felling too hot lately, if you couldn’t tell.  without the distraction of theatre, i am now subjected to my least favorite thing in the world [the human psyche].  and as i wake up every morning to get ready, i start recognizing myself less, and realize that i have let the weight of school and society tear me apart; leaving nothing but grey, blurred out fever-dreams of who i used to be, and what it meant to be happy.  Before any of you start worrying for me, don’t.  Writing this poem only inspired me more to finally overcome this feeling of “apathy”.