This one is a bit of a departure for me in several ways. It's a hybrid of a few different images and themes that have been traipsing through my mind. As always, feedback is much appreciated ...By Francis ScudellariNeither monster nor man, passive he
By Francis ScudellariTime-weighted words trail off,Questions strung out …Who's dangled on hooked lines,Thought's push pulled tautEndless how's break,Plumbed possibilityScatters, drops-inShimmering bits of ifSpectacled snowFloats down to sightless s
I lay there, window open wide. The weather's warmer now, and the frogs peep as I contemplate sleep. Way off, the familiar rumble of a train. Wonder what the frogs think when they hear it. Must sound mysterious, bigger than life. What name do they giv
By Francis ScudellariI hover in ether,A ghostly hand's caressCurious, tentativeTouch thick-calloused surfaceAn outré encrustedWorld only vaguely feltGhastly apparitionIn circled route, tear-droppedForeboding I followLeaden cumulate waves,Dark-ripple
By Francis ScudellariII.Within translucent, sheet-transfixed,Sharp-splashed, conscious-dispersed,I fall back, twistDown ephemeral paths, transformGlimpsed, to passive statue,Limestone slow-carvedEgo erodes to toppling, myLoose particles, grantedTheir
Not entirely sure why I'm posting this, other than to publicly acknowledge that I realize this blog often sits here neglected these days. Sometimes I feel like I'm slipping into that comfortable role occupied by those who are naively content with the
By Francis ScudellariTwo hands, for one moment,Infinite joined, seamed pair;Thumb to cupped palm laid, probesTentative small circles,Then bold-reached forays; MapsThought-familiar surface,Smooth to light touch, but pressedHarder, finely textured --Co
For the bulk of my life I have experienced a persistent sadness... and I've never known what to attribute it to, or what to call it. Abuse? Death of innocence? Depression? Failure? Lonliness? No matter what I've sought to call it, none of the titles
This drawing is my visual tribute to the poem L'Orchidea by Hanna Filo at Amori, Poesie, Arte, Chat. Below you can read the provocative verse in both the original Italian and an English translation, to which I contributed.L'Orchidea (Lettera d'amore)
By Francis ScudellariMusingMy mind stumblesOn "in-significance"A word,Or phrase thin-gluedBy that troubling black bitDash slappedHyphen, speakingProper, stuck (in-)betweenLoosely(Dis)connecting,(N)ever decided choice:Give gappedPause, separateIn, tru
The longer I study psychology in the academic sense, the more it occurs to me that it is a science largely interested in drawing distinctions between human and animal intelligence. As if some level of separation were egotistically necessary. I have y
Recently, I was accused of being "anti-Christ." Too funny. Sometimes I wonder how much thought religious folks actually put into understanding the history of their chosen religion, and how many dots they have taken the time to connect. Just as humani
Incomplete figure (the poem)