Needful People
filling the darkness with our words,
imagining the distance is not there.
we will this together
on such a late night,
trying to connect
to a need
dying
to be
filled.
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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)
-
▼
August
(34)
- Returning.
- Who We Are
- Phade
- Refusal
- The View From Atop Babel
- One By One
- Rooftop Fish Tacos
- needlessstress
- Width
- A Bouquet Of Dead Flowers For You
- Things We Do
- Reminders
- Extraordinarily Ordinary
- Terms and Conditions
- For Tyler
- A Brief Note On The Only Thing That Matters
- A Series Of Shorts
- Doldrums
- Mirrors Facing Mirrors
- Condition
- The Waking Life
- Familiar
- Keeping Constant Motion
- Everywhere You Go You Will Find This
- I Come To Thee
- Fred : "God loves you just the way you are."
- A Celebration Of Opposing Poles
- Holding Fate
- A Frog In The Bottom Of The Well
- Sailin' On
- Hacking through the lack.
- 47
- Nothing Happens All The Time
- All The Great Liars and Me
-
▼
August
(34)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
1 comment:
I'd say to flesh this out a little more with some concrete imagery to help the reader/listener get more of a sense of who you're talking to, because it is a bit abstract at this juncture. If it is a really personal piece, then it should be a really nice challenge to say more without giving away any of the super factual details behind the piece's origin. So no names or anything, just give us more sensual synthesitic bits of info. I want to feel the "distance" more.
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