08 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

07/08 Northern Sweden

As I reached the Arctic Circle, I got off the train in what seemed to be a ghost town.  I would assume it was at least three in the morning and everything in sight was closed.  Although early in the morning the sun was still up creating an odd feeling, like being on a set of a twilight zone episode.  You could tell something was off.  I was carrying an address of a good place to stay that was given to me somewhere along the road.  At that point I really didn’t care how nice it was as long as it had a working shower.   (more…)

08 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 021 Circular trails

Circular trails around the North Star, soaking in the darkness
to the edge of the night, never far, from where my soul confessed
here the world end and extends, unspoiled by the hands of another

I’m already torn and cannot pretend, they have failed to waken my lover
the red beneath the rose, the cheek and the sweetness within, the stars look down and knows
where the finger prints begins