Delayed
Saturday, June 13, 2026
Delayed
Friday, June 12, 2026
Thursday, June 11, 2026
Loyalty
Loyalty:
now seeing his master home,
Argos breathes his last.
Wednesday, June 10, 2026
Truth
Truth
Tuesday, June 9, 2026
Promise:
Promise:
Monday, June 8, 2026
Mondays
Mondays
and a 'can-do' attitude
only goes so far...
Sunday, June 7, 2026
Edits
Edits
A sea of red ink,rearranging paragraphs,
Showing no mercy!
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Appeasin' be self treason...
Saturday, June 6, 2026
Patton was Right
Patton was Right
before they stormed the beaches,
they would have refused.
Friday, June 5, 2026
Tempting
Tempting
Thursday, June 4, 2026
A Thing of Beauty
A Thing of Beauty
Wednesday, June 3, 2026
American Fork
American Fork
of a horrid police department:
Shameful and corrupt!
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Tuesday, June 2, 2026
Bowl
Bowl
Give the ball a spin,At just the right time: release!
Hope for strike or spare.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Monday, June 1, 2026
Sunday, May 31, 2026
Saturday, May 30, 2026
Pretend
Pretend
there are no cars or voices,
so the city fades...
Friday, May 29, 2026
Gliph
Gliph
Thursday, May 28, 2026
All I want:
All I want:
Keeping Watch 4
Keeping Watch 4
The door had lain as naturally in that bough of the oak as if God himself had allowed it to spring from the leaves. Denvil knew God had had no part in putting it there, though. The burnt husk of a cabin, Tom and Jessy gone, and the twisting of his guts at seeing his boy look so lost told him that.
Corvin was a silent thinker, so Denvil would never know the particulars of what was going through his head until Corvin had come to a conclusion and informed him of anything. He had been that way since he was little. He had once declared that he wanted to be an adventurer, and Denvil assumed that he would grow out of it once he was older. But one day, Denvil had come back from town and found Jane sobbing over his letter stating he had left home to see the world, with promises of returning.
Four years later, he had returned home with tales of his adventures, money to share with the family, and what had caused a real stir in the community: an Irish bride. She had skin as pale as moonlight, long and dark Raven hair, and the greenest eyes that Denvil had ever seen. Denvil thought she was as pretty as a flower, but as twitchy as a bird.
They had built her a cabin south of his own and had included a lot of her odd requests in its construction. Denvil once asked Corvin about it, but Corvin had just waved the questions off and laughed. The Irish are still a superstitious lot, he had said.
Once the house was built, she seemed to settle down a little, and they started having kids. Corvin’s Younger brother Thad had become a bit envious and decided to strike out and find himself an Irish gal, and departed soon after.
But now, after last night’s events and this morning’s discovery, Denvil wondered if there had been a reason for her twitchiness that they had been unaware of.
Denvil looked up at the smoke drifting over the trees ahead.
“Ma looks to be cooking up a storm, Cor,” He said. “They might be up there having some breakfast while waiting for us.”
Corvin didn’t say anything, but Denvil noticed he quietly heeled his horse to move faster, and he disappeared around the bend.
“Goddamn it! Pa!” Denvil heard him cry out. “Pa!”
Denvil kicked at ol’ Luke.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Wednesday, May 27, 2026
Tuesday, May 26, 2026
Final Draft Struggle
Final Draft Struggle
on whether to cut the scene
and change the ending...
Monday, May 25, 2026
Memorial Day
Memorial Day
our noble dead, lives stolen
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Sunday, May 24, 2026
Whispers
Whispers
ancient creatures whisper tales
tongues unknown by man.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Saturday, May 23, 2026
Ghosts
Ghosts
whispered when they are alone...
Friday, May 22, 2026
Hyper
Hyper
Fortuna's gift flows over:
unyielding success.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
A Dream.
So, last night, I had an interesting dream.
I was in a park, and climbed a hill to where there was a
Library Box filled with books, and before I could look through the books to see
if there was anything good, I found a package inside, and it had a handmade PVC
pipe pistol. I wanted to keep it, but John Travolta walked up, flashed me his smile, and talked me into throwing it away because I “didn’t actually wanna risk having it, right?”
So, I begrudgingly tossed it in the trash. He said Thanks,
and that he owed me one. He shot me the double guns and grinned again.
Later, I am sitting at a meal with the family, they are
chatting away while I am lost in my own thoughts trying to figure out how I am
going to make ends meet, when My wife says that the bank shows a deposit from
John Travolta for 3.5 Million Dollars. It was noted as “Thanks”.
I excitedly started calculating the pay off of my debts, and the purchase of a small fixer upper home for the family.
Folks, I tell you that waking up without the 3.5 million that you were going to use to change your life was...rough.
So, as I am getting started this morning, crying little tears into my coffee, all I can say is that if John Travolta asks you to toss a gun for him in real life, try it and see what happens....
Thursday, May 21, 2026
Native Blues
Native Blues
Parents nearby say nothing.
I wish ICE would come.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Wednesday, May 20, 2026
Land of the Wholesale
Land of the Wholesale
is now proven a farce,
money buys the seats.
Tuesday, May 19, 2026
Carpetbaggers
Carpetbaggers
in a crucial election:
our Countrymen lost...
Monday, May 18, 2026
The West
The West
round our necks, and we pretend
that we are free men...
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Sunday, May 17, 2026
Sleep
Sleep
a soft voice whispers the lore.
I drift off to sleep.
Saturday, May 16, 2026
Birthday Wishes
Birthday Wishes
My oldest daughter Lilith!
How time betrays me...
Friday, May 15, 2026
Action
Action
and cuts down the goblin horde
while others debate.
Thursday, May 14, 2026
Chaotic Mourning
Chaotic Mourning
The magick world mourns.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Wednesday, May 13, 2026
Can you smell it?
Can you smell it?
for yet another lock down!
The bullshit grows deep.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Troubles
Troubles
hit me one after the next,
Tonight will be rough...
Monday, May 11, 2026
Ancient
Ancient
Every ache and pain
feels like it could be the end
when you hit forty...
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Sunday, May 10, 2026
Mother's Day
Mother's Day
to the women who bore us,
our first lasting loves.
Saturday, May 9, 2026
Liberating
Liberating
trying to let go of hard,
to not try is worse.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Friday, May 8, 2026
Puffery
Puffery
at those who view silent folks
as safe to abuse.
Thursday, May 7, 2026
Killdeer
Killdeer
Responding
Wednesday, May 6, 2026
Idiot
Idiot
The idiot still passes,
while on his cell phone.
Tuesday, May 5, 2026
Primaroj '26
Primaroj '26
Monday, May 4, 2026
Keeping Watch 3
Keeping Watch 3
Thomas sat awake with his back leaning against his father’s chair, his stomach felt like it was in a knot. He faced the door and the window beside it. His eyes bounced from one to the other, half expecting the deer looking demon creature to lunge through the window or force the door open, crossing its threshold to do God knows what to him and Jessy.
On one hand, he was jealous that Jessy was able to fall asleep in front of the fire so easily. Yet, on the other hand, he was glad that she wasn’t awake to share the same fear that gripped him.
She lay curled up under a half-finished quilt that Ma was working on. Maybe its warmth, and the warmth of the fire had lulled her to sleep.
A lullaby that was withheld from him.
Try as he might to close his eyes and keep them closed in the attempt to force himself into sleep, they wouldn’t stay closed. After a moment or two, he would swear that he heard something, and they would flutter open and focus on the window and then the door.
He had put the bar on the door and pulled the rifle from the mantle. He was ready for anything that dared to come in. Or dared to gaze in for that matter.
A loud thump came from above him on the roof, and he sat bolt upright, scooting further back against the chair as if he were trying to disappear into it. The thump was followed by what sounded like a pair of hooves slowly and deliberately walking across the roof to the south side of the cabin, before going silent right over the door. He looked up, holding the rifle close, not sure whether to shoot blindly at where the sound had seemingly stopped, or to hold his breath.
He held his breath, ears straining to hear anything over the pounding of his heart in his own chest and the crackle of the fire. Swallowing hard, he pushed himself to his feet. He crouched down, and walked bent over towards the window as quietly as possible. Pushing himself against the wall beside the window, he peeked out. There was nothing on that side that he could see. He crawled under the window to look out the other side. Nothing.
The outside was well lit by the moon’s silver light, but he couldn’t make out anything out of the ordinary.
Until he heard it.
It wasn’t the hooves on the roof, though. It was a gentle and yet earnest rustling that he heard. Not of leaves or weeds, but something else. Something he couldn’t quite place, though it sounded familiar. He pushed the side of his face into the cool wood of the wall as far as he could, straining his eyes as he looked every which way out the window that he was able to as he tried to see where the sound was coming from.
He saw it as it rounded the corner of the cabin and came into view of the window. He squinted at it, blinked, and squinted again. He had no clue what he was looking at. It looked about as tall as their old Billy goat, but it moved across the ground with the poise of a bob cat on the hunt. Thomas couldn’t see any legs on the creature, but rather root like tendrils fluttering back and forth on the grass pushed it forward. It’s body appeared as a mass of clumped up silt, and out of its back were a heap of reeds and cattails. A knot of reads and dripping algae formed a head roughly the shape of a dog with elongated muzzle, two blue glowing orbs flickered and danced within its head like small fires. As they slowly danced from one side to another, Thomas understood that these were its eyes.
“What the…” Thomas whispered.
The creature stopped moving and dropped to the ground so quickly that if Thomas had not been watching it, he wouldn’t be able to tell where it went. Even it’s eyes dimmed to the point that he didn’t know if the orbs were still there, or if it was the glimmer of the moonlight shimmering on the mess of reeds.
An ice-cold wave of nausea washed over Thomas. What had once been prowling just outside looked like it had been there all along. He swallowed hard and allowed his eyes to drift around the window a bit to see if there were any other clump of weeds or reeds in a place that he did not recall seeing them before. He heard the rustle again, and his eyes flashed back to the creature, that was now slithering slowly in his direction, tendrils spinning out, as if growing and retracting as it pulled itself forward. Its pale blue orbs no longer dancing but fixed upon the window.
Thomas pulled his head back from the window and pressed himself against the wall. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to steady his breath. This was not real. No more real than the deer demon he had seen earlier.
“Just a dream…” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Just a bad dream…”
At his words, the rustling stopped again.
Thomas forced himself to slide his face to the corner of the window just far enough that he would see with one eye a mass of weeds and reeds sprawling on the ground just in front of the porch railing. He slammed himself back against the wall. Trembling, he pulled the hammer back on the rifle. He didn’t know whether or not a bullet would do anything to whatever this thing was, but it was the only thing he had.
He took a breath and stepped away from the wall and turned towards the window. He almost dropped the rifle before he could bring it up to aim. The reed creature was at the window, its muzzled “face” now flattened as it pressed against the glass, its orbs trained on him and flickering fast.
He stared at it for a moment, unable to think, or move.
A hole appeared between the eyes and a godawful and warbling screech came from within the creature, its reeds and weeds shaking and vibrating with the screech as if amplifying the sound.
The window cracked and snapped Thomas out of his stupor. He screamed and brought the rifle up to bear on the creature, and pulled the trigger.
***
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Exhausted
Exhausted
Broken by nightmares and sounds
That keep me awake...
Sunday, May 3, 2026
See it
See it
Hold your breath and close your eyes,
Think: Your dream fulfilled.
Saturday, May 2, 2026
A win is a win
A win is a win
"This ticket is a winner!"
A whole twenty bucks...
Friday, May 1, 2026
Pick me up
Pick me up
desperately gulped.
Father to Father
Father to Father
Turning, he waddled to me slowly
as if burdened by his own heartache,
and mournfully gave another honk,
sad and low.
At my fee he sat,
and stared up at me.
Was he after bread?
Answers?
The voice of a friend?
I could only offer one.
I knelt down,
showing my hands,
free of blood,
empty of bread.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Sad and slow.
He bowed his head briefly,
as if in understanding,
or perhaps his own sorrow.
I took my hat off
and bowed my own in return.
A prayer to Juno
that he and his mate,
wherever she may be,
make it through
this heartache and pain,
whispered.
Sad and slow.
Two fathers,
one in mourning,
the other in sympathy,
sitting together
in a broken and unforgiving world,
sad and low.
Thursday, April 30, 2026
Hopium
Hopium
Reality cut with Hope
lets me limp along...
Wednesday, April 29, 2026
The Abyss
The Abyss
ripped from my soul and published
to silent masses.
Mining
Mining
Open my eyes, flick on the light,write down the dreams I had that night,
hopefully to find
or perhaps to mine
some message divine.
One of hope, no matter how slight.
Good Morning! (Or evening if you stumble across this page then...)
This is my attempt at the Clogyrnach style poem. It is a six lined Welsh poetic style that structured as follows:
8 syllables with an A rhyme
8 syllables with an A rhyme.
5 syllables with an B rhyme.
5 syllables with an B rhyme.
5 syllables with an B rhyme.
8 syllables with an A rhyme
That being said, how do you think I did?
Tuesday, April 28, 2026
Hobbled
Hobbled
stuck with a monitored car,
unable to speed.
Monday, April 27, 2026
Sorrow
Sorrow
Momma, Papa, eggs
all gone…
save two…
shattered in the remnants
of straw, string, and feathers
that once promised a happy nest,
a happy future…
the site of 5 little goslings
lined up in a row
as momma and papa lead them on,
to the delight of those watching.
A row that will never exist,
delight that will never manifest,
all seized in the night,
dashed upon the pavement.
Morning Prayers
Morning Prayers
candles lit, wine poured, praising
Gods and Ancestors.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Sunday, April 26, 2026
Forecast
Forecast
Saturday, April 25, 2026
Where is Iustitia?
Where is Iustitia?
Every last politician
has blood on their hands.
Friday, April 24, 2026
Fragments
Fragments
A hometown visit,cleaning, talking to the dead,
others...and myself...
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Thursday, April 23, 2026
Wistful
Wistful
Time too far removed...
Wednesday, April 22, 2026
Stolen
Stolen
A dream we could have captured...
lost to a bullet.
Tuesday, April 21, 2026
A Father's Burden
A Father's Burden
When he could be with his kids.
Precious stolen time…
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Monday, April 20, 2026
Keeping Watch 2
Keeping Watch 2
Corvin leaned against the charred porch post that once had
his name carved into it, and looked out over the smoldering ruin that had been
his cabin.
That had been his home.
They had broke camp and rode through the night towards the flickering
orange glow, hoping it wasn’t the cabin.
The only thing left standing was the brick chimney. Once
red, now blackened by the fire that had consumed everything else that he loved.
And maybe everyone that he loved.
“They may have gotten out, Corv.”
He turned and looked at his father, still sitting on his
horse. His voice was gentle and reassuring, but Corvin noticed the old man’s eyes
kept darting from tree to tree, and he never took his hand off his gun.
Corvin didn’t say anything but walked to where his door used
to stand. Brigit had begged him to use an unbroken piece of oak and then had
him carve the intricate image on the front of it. Loops, and circles that went
on and on in one continuous line, with a bulky and odd looking cross in the
middle of it all with a shamrock in the middle of it.
He had never been terribly religious, and it wasn’t a
traditional cross, but Brigit had been insistent and said it was named for the
saint who she was named after.
So he sweated from the labor, and the fear of messing up the
carving under her watchful eye. Between her drawn lines, and his steady hand,
he was able to get it done to her satisfaction. He then at her insistence nailed
horse shoes over it.
And now it was gone.
The horse shoes blackened and scattered in the mess all that
remained of the doorway. He stepped through the openness where the door had once
stood, his boots crunching on the still smoldering wood. His eyes scanned the
floor, around the fireplace, and in the kitchen. Twisted items that he could
identify, some he could not, but none of them were Brigit or the kids.
“You seeing anything, Corv?” his old man hollered out.
“No,” Corvin replied after a long sigh. “I..I don’t think
they were here.”
“We probably shouldn’t stay too long.”
“I ain’t going nowhere till I find ‘em.”
“That ain’t what I meant, son.”
His dad looked at him, and Corvin knew that he was right.
“Alright, I just…”
He paused, eye catching a glint in the charcoaled rubbish.
He knelt down and carefully plucked it from the ash. It lay in his palm,
surprisingly cold given the heat coming up from everything around it. He rubbed
his thumb over the medallion modeled after the Brigit’s cross that held her
initials. His old man had made the medallion, and Corvin had given it to Brigit
the night that Tom was born. She had given it to Jessy when she turned five.
“What’s that?”
Corvin almost jumped at his father’s voice. He grit his teeth
and slid it into his chest pocket as he stood up.
“Best get to your place and get some supplies, pop.”
He mounted and as they turned the horses to ride towards the
old man’s cabin, he pulled his horse up short and stared up into the tree line
where his cabin door, lay in the boughs of the oak tree.
The door looked as though it had been plucked from the cabin
and positioned carefully in the tree, its iron hinges and handle shining in the
morning sun.
“How in tarnation…?” His old man followed his gaze. “How ya
reckon that got up there?”
“I don’t know,” Corvin said. “But I damn sure intend to find out.”
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Auf Dich
Auf Dich
to that brave visionary
who tried to save us.
Sunday, April 19, 2026
Fear
Fear
but they will tremble that day
when Western men wake.
Saturday, April 18, 2026
Busy
Busy
The car is running again,
I move down the list.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Friday, April 17, 2026
Thursday, April 16, 2026
Endure
Endure
Grinding me down to a crawl,
But I shall crawl on...
Wednesday, April 15, 2026
The Shoal
The Shoal.
Black ink, swirls inside circles.
Words stripped bare
to the letters,
merged not to read, but to see,
shapes reshaped until pleasing…
Cut in perfect form, circle still binding,
Shoaled and stacked
With solemn focus,
Folden into yellow paper.
Red ink to form the link.
Formed in duplicate,
rite repeated.
New set destroyed
as some folks call for.
Documented, as others insist.
Now to forget,
the hardest part…
until such a time remembering
is prompted with delight.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Thoughts
Thoughts
Lay scattered across my desk,
Mirror of my thoughts...
Tuesday, April 14, 2026
Highway Hypnosis
Highway Hypnosis
and gentle warmth of the sun
makes me need caffeine .
Monday, April 13, 2026
Interpreting
Interpreting
From out of nowhere:
horn, brakes screeching, cold steel, dark...
I wake with a start!
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Sunday, April 12, 2026
Linking
Linking
Saturday, April 11, 2026
Transparent
Transparent
They call for cease fire
Not for peace, but the time
To bomb someone else.
Friday, April 10, 2026
Dreaming
Dreaming
when we go to sleep each night
trying to guide us.
Thursday, April 9, 2026
Starting Point
Starting Point
One measly pull-up,with an assistance band, too!
A point to build from.
Wednesday, April 8, 2026
Proper Sleep
Proper Sleep
and woke a bit easier...
A novel concept!
Tuesday, April 7, 2026
Field
Field
used by the homeless to sleep,
but Field purges them.
© Jeremy L. Heath, 2026. All rights reserved
Monday, April 6, 2026
Lodge
Lodge
act well on the plum, and then
part upon the square.






