Tag: Literature
Posted on June 1, 2020
by Elan Mudrow
7 Comments
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Category: PortraitsTags: Abstract, architecture, Art, Author, Blog, Books, deconstructionism, Derrida, Life, Literature, Love, Mathematics, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Reading, Uncategorized, Water, Writing
Posted on May 18, 2020
by Elan Mudrow
25 Comments
He had lost an eye. Though, its orb still in its socket had turned a blurry blue, misty, had developed a different kind of sight. It was a pain experienced through years of looking, looking, searching. A pain no one could comprehend. Not even… Continue Reading “Gerald”
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Category: PeopleTags: Art, Author, Blog, Books, Life, Literature, Love, People, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Reading, Writing
Posted on April 6, 2020
by Elan Mudrow
13 Comments
The ways to one another are uneven. Steps expand, contract, falter, fuse Feet unsure, like magnets running Fixed fast to the sprawling spin Of simple skin and porous bone. We push hands through texture Cool walls made up of paint layers The… Continue Reading “Teeth Of Sea”
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Category: PoetryTags: Art, Author, Blog, Books, Life, Literature, Love, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Reading, Writing
Posted on March 23, 2020
by Elan Mudrow
11 Comments
I will pick a blue flower. # The old one sits in a vase. Navy blue, blackened, dry crumbs, as if pressed inside an old book. A little life clings to its edges, a lingering glow. Mother nibbles at these fresh parts, the fresh… Continue Reading “Still Life (A Myth)”
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Category: Flash FictionTags: Art, Blog, Life, Literature, Love, Myth, Nature, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Reading, Supernatural, Writing
Posted on November 25, 2019
by Elan Mudrow
10 Comments
The high lakes, frozen, clear, Distort reflections of the mountain. Old men with trekking poles Filter through the forest. All with some form of Achilles And Homeric hunger pangs. Drawn to recite soliloquies To the unmoving cold. Return to the… Continue Reading “The High Lakes”
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Category: Poetry, PortraitsTags: Art, Blog, Lake, Life, Literature, Love, Nature, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Uncategorized, Wilderness, Winter, Writing
Posted on September 23, 2019
by Elan Mudrow
13 Comments
Remnants of the past…embedded. Curled inside chalky lava flows Stuck to a shape…ripples in stone. Only elements change its appearance. I and everything wait for the rain. The parched flowers and grasses Fragile skin, stalks, browns and beiges. Bloomed full, so easily, last… Continue Reading “Mary Shelley”
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Category: PoetryTags: Art, Author, Blog, Books, Frankenstein, Life, Literature, Love, Nature, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Seasons, Writing
Posted on June 17, 2019
by Elan Mudrow
9 Comments
—-“Is it her singing that enchants us or is it not rather the solemn stillness enclosing her frail little voice?” -Franz Kafka I know the place he visits…those melodies. Songs like children that make sure you never forget your heart. I’ve tangled with them,… Continue Reading “My Father’s Mouse”
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Category: PoetryTags: Art, Blog, Fado, Franz Kafka, Josephine The Singer, Life, Literature, Love, Music, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Songs, Writing
Posted on February 28, 2019
by Elan Mudrow
44 Comments
‘Twas the vinegar that tippeth Toward the leftover quiche Oh, lonely empty bottle, recycler boon When sun meets to kiss moon— And mustard, your yellows bold A bit old, but still at play— Mummified lime, plastic lined Awaits blessed water of the fizzy kind—… Continue Reading “Emily Dickinson’s Refrigerator”
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Category: PoetryTags: Art, Comedy, Emily Dickinson, Humor, Life, Literature, Love, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Writing
Posted on February 15, 2019
by Elan Mudrow
5 Comments
The apparition of these fare inspectors in the crowd; Donuts with icing, cream filled full.
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Category: PoetryTags: Art, Blog, Ezra Pound, Graffiti, Life, Literature, Love, Mass Transportation, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Writing
Posted on October 1, 2018
by Elan Mudrow
19 Comments
The voiceless have built a city within this city, structures embedded within the grid, pulled together by patchwork—cloth, tent, sawdust floor and plastic sheet. You’re there, measuring your life in coffee spoons, on that same street, right next to them. You see… Continue Reading “T.S. Eliot Bumps Into A Second Person”
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Elan Mudrow 
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