Feste's Lute

Scribbles & Sketches of the Unspeakable

A genuine work of art must mean many things; the truer its art, the more things it will mean. If my drawing, on the other hand, is so far from being a work of art that it needs THIS IS A HORSE written under it, what can it matter that neither you nor your child should know what it means? It is there not so much to convey a meaning as to wake a meaning. — But a man may then imagine in your work what he pleases, what you never meant! — Not what he pleases, but what he can. If he be not a true man, he will draw evil out of the best; we need not mind how he treats any work of art! If he be a true man, he will imagine true things; what matter whether I meant them or not?

The Fantastic Imagination – George MacDonald

And this one’s better…

Alas! how easily things go wrong!
A sigh too deep or a kiss too long,
And then comes a mist and a weeping rain,
And life is never the same again.

Phantastes – George MacDonald

If there was a Lit crush box, he’d be right up by the heart for me. =P

With a Whimper

Likely lack
will set us back
to sticks
and brickyard kicks
for fencing.
No reposts,
no home at six,
just ramen
on the fire pit.
Trading cubes
for caves.

Smooth Stones

There is a raft
through rapids swift,
there is a soul
in sollace.
In fever dreams
we stitch the seams,
with consequence
rehearse our plea,
“Nothing need be
in this.”

Old Icarus

Remember, child,
do not forget again:

To every raven comes
a reckoning,
and to the maven,

As Guinea hens
oft illustrate in pens,
your wings will wither
slowly from this sin.

I must mention that…

… I just had to remind myself to put the “e” in tumbles.


Bangs scissored badly,
explode pristine lines.
Ends are conflicted,
roots intertwined.

Take up the quill —
skewer the scalp till
thought tumbles out.

Color correct
this drought
with red.