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Jason Ramsey

Ryan Clair – I Want Jesus To Walk With Me (The Valley)

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Ryan Clair  I Want Jesus To Walk With Me (The Valley) – Single © 2017 Sprig Music / Old Bear Records / Ryan Clair Review by Jason Ramsey There is…

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The Halls

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These are halls where souls go to die. Where agony parlays grief and fluorescent beams shock minds into submission. Where clamoring “it is finished” reverberates against concrete walls and rings…

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When You Were Young

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When you were young, spirits rose from hollow arms, petals aligned in rows, sundresses draped from hips like windblown sails, lips crested waves. When you were young, mountains shifted along…

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Refinery Lines

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  I sewed the wind into comfort for you. I whitened black night with burning glass and blackened white lies with sooted ash. I sat, faceless, shawl-covered on concrete floors,…

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These Barren Fields

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These barren fields, Wolf-grey coats of bark and Dust, coarse lines bleeding Trails, idle in stillness, Parsed, perched, Widows of breath, Brittle as ash in wind Sit slack-jawed, cold, Hinterlands of impervious…

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Dossey – Diamond

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A GLORIOUS SOUNDSCAPE FOR THE SOUL Diamond 2015 / 8 Tracks / 31 minutes The Christian music scene has not seen the likes of ‘Diamond’, the debut solo album from…

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A Repentance

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Repentance. Waning appetite of faith-junctions betrothed. Relaxing, embracing tapestries lost. Misplaced versions of stark archetypes, Leaning, beleaguering, vacating thin veils Of guilt-shed sin on vandalized walls. We wait. Fake. Deface. Glorified perversions of angst-ridden blame, An upheaval of martyrdom Placating grace. We wait like frost-white dalliances of hate. Forgiveness. Mirrored truths of disingenuous praise. Succumbing, shedding insidious skin. Forlorn ashes of dead souls, Simmering, frothing, bequeathing tastes Of half-sighed lies on brittle-dry lips. We drink. Sink. Relinquish. An artifact of fate Belaboring grace. We claw like wolf-thieves approaching the gate. Acceptance. Repenting diatribes of angelic malaise. Atoning, dethroning serpentine reign. Heralded saints of banished restraint, Bleeding, careening, embattling faith Of deaf-toned harps on bleak magistrates. We pour. Scowl. Implore. An advocate of priesthood Postulating will.…

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This is the point where trying to hold things together for everyone else makes me fall apart. Fractal. It’s not supposed to be like this. We were made in His…

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Brandon Bagby, Artist

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MUSICAL LANDSCAPES An Interview with Artist and Audio Adrenaline guitarist Brandon Bagby. AW: According to your website (, you’ve only been ‘seriously’ painting since 2009, but your work is incredibly…

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The Color Of Fog

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(Short Fiction) Disclaimer: Contains mature themes.   “You’re old enough to be my father.” Edward Cain slugged a whiskey shot and set the glass on a nightstand, and it wobbled…

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The Fringe

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Aspiration leaves us hanging on precipices — balmy, nervous, like wet leaves sweating off midsummer rain. It gets us close, but seldom close enough. Close enough to feel the rush,…

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Love swells

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Love swells. I often imagine being immersed in dark water, where the only light is the fading sun refracting on the surface. It’s a brilliant light, a kaleidoscope of color…

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