August 2011
7 posts
5 tags
By ___________ Would Be Hard As Hell To Cite...
People have the atrocious habit of trying find inexistent connections between a piece of writing with whoever wrote it; constructing baseless bridges linking a face or habit with turning points and story arcs rather than just appreciating a profound union of emotions and words in a sully poem or spiritually uplifitng novel. Even I’m guilty of the lawless crime. Too many times have I read an...
3 tags
Or Maybe I'll Just Be On Facebook.
Five years from now I am: still as stubborn and love-lorn, simplistic but prolific minister, wise old age or age old bitter, skin thick as pigskin with a fluffy chewy youthy center. Five years from now I am: a thievy sort to cohort the next headlining divorce. Motion to distort the court, and of course this discourse is coarse but it gasses up the Porshe. Or maybe a cage fighter, denier to my...
4 tags
I Like My Eggs Moonlit Side Up
Quiet. That’s one way the people back on shore would describe it. Deep in the mid-Atlantic, the tiny tugboat known as the SS Gerald swayed sound asleep by the tender care of a nursing sea. Patrick stood at the bow, like he’d done every sunset for the past year, staring off to the calm beckoning distance. Watching as the sun, so far and unreachable, came crashing down gracefully into the horizon...
4 tags
Straight To Voicemail. Again. What The Hell's A...
“So no, I don’t apologize for my lingering look and tranced gaze of intent watching your dress flirt with the breeze. There’s an unread message on the slender of your neck, missed calls in your beckoning frame, and you know it drives me crazy when that notification lingers on the screen for too long.”
7 tags
Found Poetry On Tumblr
I want to write someone letters in third person, because the first is hurting. Funny how my handwriting is at its neatest when I write “I don’t like people.” I don’t want to deal with my thoughts, pacing around like caged lions. But, love doesn’t see failure; it sees grace. And maybe they’re called love handles because someone will love them. What does a world have with hope? Not a lot. I am a...
4 tags
Me, Myself and I. And You. And Maybe Him? All of...
Me? Well, there’s just a few things about Me that I, Myself, don’t understand. Sometimes I do things I think are good for Me but only end up hurting Myself. So what I think is good (for Me) might actually be bad for Me, and even worse for Myself. But what’s bad for Me could be good for you, and if it’s good for you then why would I worry about Myself when something good...
4 tags
Dialogue Excerpt
When you lose someone you care about, and I mean really care about, it isn’t the end of the world like most people say. Your life isn’t ‘over.’ It’s actually the total opposite. The days are longer, nights drag forever, and sleep is an impossible function you can’t remember how to operate. How long has she been gone now? A year? An hour? I can’t tell. I...
