You Call Me Animal but I am not your predatoryou bear your fangs to mebut I cannot see past that grin, I gave...
JoinedOctober 29, 2018
Articles49
George Cassidy Payne is a freelance journalist, poet and essayist whose work explores the intersections of philosophy, culture, politics and lived experience. With a background in philosophy and more than a decade teaching at the college level, his writing brings a reflective, inquiry-driven lens to contemporary issues, often weaving together reportage with deeper ethical and existential questions.
Irish Moon Woundedamong her trees, it’s 3:20 a.m. I ponder heras a long pour of Guinnesson a slow night. Vow...
After the Tear Gas rubber bullets and joyful tauntsof revolution, the fall of every infantsparrow is evolving as a eulogyin...
Photography is the waterfallcarved by theelements, a riverbed ticking away,layer by layer, thesalty, smoked scentof sycamore mist. Were the Humans...
In The Beginning Was the Word The originof all form. Swirled into the name of God,it is a voice asking...
If You See My Ego Do not approach it.It has been known tolash out when startled. I Am Not the...
The Mathematics of Chance does what works. The way a kidney works, silent and reliable. Until it dies the Good...
As fast as the virus and then some, Love is spreading. In the hands of doctors and nurses, it spreads....
Self-Portrait of a Froglet first I feedon mother’s yolk attached am I to her algae-soft fingers then I start the...
An Unexpected Guest Truth arrived at dinnerUnannounced and uninvited Empty-handed, and drunk off Cheap wine. Freezing cold, without A coat....
Self-Portrait as a Mako Shark I am the one who learnedwhat it means to be an intruder, the onewho will...
A Thought I Had While Swimming in Kimbe Bay what is the proper use of human beings to chase after...
Playing Outside A bald head.A red coat. Two black eyes. Short brown eyebrows.OshKosh B’gosh overalls and a long-sleeved shirt— small...
A Love Bound in Bark Love is an arrow slicing throughthe air. A thin yellow banner between red slopes, where...
Buddha Taught Everything is in flux:our body heat, the flowof blood circulating throughthe arteries, even the thoughts in our heads, and...
Where Deer Sleep My three-year-old sonasked me where deer sleep.So I took him there. Steppinginto a space that is not...
What You Don’t Get in Church It has nothing to do with the thoughts that bring results we want. Pulling...
Inside The Tent Inside the tent, before the sirenof seagulls and crows,the world loses a little bitof its sovereignty. If...
The Name of God Is Not a Word The name of God is not a word. The Incas knewthat God...
Earthquake Some poems cannot be written for fun. You do it because you can’t be quiet about it. All you can do...
From the Beginning There is a hushfrom the beginning of time, where you can hear yourself blink. There is a...
[su_panel background=”#fdeec0″ color=”#000000″ border=”0px none #ffffff” shadow=”0px 0px 0px #ffffff”] Another Staged Thanksgiving Helicoptered awayfrom another stagedThanksgiving, Godfeels pinned downand...
Nothing Scares Me More Immortality is a ruthless harvester of data. Just moments crumbling, into half-hidden traces of prehistoric bones....
Death Is Taking Off a Tight Shoe Watching old YouTube videos, I once heard Ram Dass say —over coffee in...
