Sound that goes beyond mere volume
and reaches to the vibrations
that call our world into being
is what I wish to impart on all people.
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It's always getting late.
When I am not writing this is what I do.
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
It's always getting late.
Introduction
This blog is a virtual notebook of writing that I maintain as often as I can. Poems, stray lines, random observations, all co-exist here. Revisions occur as needed/deemed fit.
See/Hear
A Chronological Archive of Joy and Heartache most often referred to as LIFE
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2009
(385)
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▼
May
(32)
- Too Short
- Obfuscate
- Flesh Wounds and Psychic Scars
- 7 Lines To Inner Space
- My Brutish Heart
- Music: A Thought From The Previous Night
- Something to think about
- A Quick One Before Bed
- Greatness
- Pick those words carefully
- Ideals
- Section 60
- Stellar Regions
- Unnecessary Extrapolation
- Expected Scenes From A Familiar Play
- Common Sense Nonsense
- Gears From A Larger Machine Of A Different Time
- New Tensions
- Non Sense
- Scribbles
- marauding monkeys making marks
- Paths On Divided Ground
- "Literature should not disappear up its own asshol...
- tears are truth,laughter enlightenment
- Sweet as vinegar.
- Dissolver
- Ms. Me. Miss Me.
- Red Dolly
- Step Back From The Darkness
- Self Help Dialog
- keep moving
- Driving to the end of the map.
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▼
May
(32)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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