About The Blog

Arthor Journer is my pen name.
"Arthor" comprises "art" + "Author" while "Journer" defines the journey that I was on and continue to travel.
In this blog is the emotional byproduct of this journey.

"Rites of Art" is the title because it is my "writes" of passage.

Saturday, March 15, 2008


Tears flowed like wine,
On pristine white floors,
Leaving fresh stains with each new spring.
Nurse’s hands leave imprints on my shoulders.
The symphony of monitors still shadow my memory.
Your body wilted,
Your eyes numb,
Your mouth screaming silence.
This seat next to you,
My new home of four legs.
I sing,
I remember,
I pray,
The doctors don’t hear,
Perhaps God doesn’t either,
You hear,
You sigh deeply.
Others hear air,
I clearly heard you loved me.

The leak in my spirit starts again,
On freshly waxed floors,
Leaving a new lake at my feet.
Pastor’s words leave echoes on my soul,
Cries of the IV whisper to my ghosts.
Your body still,
Your ears barren,
Your hands dancing in dreams.
This seat next to you,
Has become my bed.
I think,
I hope,
I pray,
Family does not feel your pulse,
Perhaps God doesn’t either.
You feel,
You move your fingers in my grasp,
Others remain anesthetized,
I clearly felt you hug me.

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