This is a blog for sharing art of all kinds. If you're in or around Athens, GA and write poetry, songs, flash fiction, short stories, anything really and want to post, send your stuff to Shannon at or to Scott at Photography and photographed artwork also welcome! Include a short bio and a pic if you want and any link to a personal website or blog you want to share.

Please be patient while we get things up and running :)

Sunday, September 23, 2012

A Song For a Prisoner of War

 whose eyes break through the boundaries
where I begin and end.
I know you know the words
to the stories I cannot tell,
except in the dark, in whispers
when my soul is the only witness
to the brutality my hands possess.
Your shadows merge with mine
without a sound,
without a fanfare,
as like is swallowed up by like.

Down by the river, in the wet night grass
there is nothing worth bothering to hide
from those eyes that break through my boundaries,
because the specter of you
floats effortlessly through my past, my present.
Awkwardly with the manacles you drag around,
your hands grip me fiercely.
I am unafraid,
because I know that sound.
I am a furlough;
I am a fleeting moments' escape
before those chains bind you back down.

So, savagely, under fast moving clouds and stars
I pull you into me
to scream my silent warrior scream
into the deepest parts of you
to give you all of the courage I have learned
and all of the secrets of the damned,
so that they will be yours
if you ever decide to make a break for it.

 Shannon McMorland Foley


It is a side effect of freedom
to grow up a little wild,
which is different than rebellion.

It is climbing to the tippy top of the tree
just to see what there is to see.
It is running for the sheer joy of running
and neither towards nor away from anything.

A river flooding
is just being a river.
A river in drought
is just being a river.
A river dammed
is a lovely lake for boaters,
but keeps fish from returning to the sea.


Shannon McMorland Foley

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

On Climbing a Pinetree on My 38th Birthday

To go beyond
and through
and up into.
To be covered
in scratches
and clumps
of sticky sap.
To see fireflies
than I knew
they could fly.
To look down
on the streetlight
in flat imitation
of the moon.
To hear layers
of sound-
bullfrogs and
lonely night birds.
To feel rough bark
on bare thighs-
pulsing energy
of life and growth.
To be immersed
in the now
in urgency
as all there is.
To be alive
to stretch beyond
who I was before.


Shannon McMorland Foley