Behind What Is There
I won't hide behindthese supposed reflections of who we are
supposed to be.
It grows much deeper than the skin
into the very soul
of what
we suppose ourselves
to be.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
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
-
▼
2009
(385)
-
▼
October
(55)
- Another
- tossed off cast off off off
- News?
- dust fragments
- Recent Technology
- Density
- Ditch
- It Was Because
- Childhood Memories
- Waking On A Sunday, Your Face Haunting
- Empty The Bottle Into Yourself
- Internal Wrangling
- Korea Town
- Slivers Of Words Written On Scrap Pieces Of Paper
- Disjointed
- The City (Draft 2)
- Another Short
- Something To Note
- Let The Past Be The Past
- For My Beautiful Dancer
- For Mother
- GOOODBYEGOODBYEGOODBYEGOODBYEGOODBYEGOODBYE
- The Gardener
- Wine Dreams Of Death
- Throwing Dirt, Smearing Words
- Unpublished Writing
- An End On This Harvest Moon
- How long do we mourn?
- New Sights In Familiar Places
- The Heart Is A Broken Metronome
- State Of The Union
- ___
- Lluvia De Oro
- The City (Draft 1)
- Surely.
- A Needed Question Searching For A Needed Answer.
- The Melody At Night, With You.
- thrown away
- Fragmented Architecture
- Broadcast
- Don't Overlook This
- Another Morning In The City
- Remember?
- At The End Of The Day
- Tasks
- Ghosts
- Empty It
- Cheap Wine In Hard Times
- s p a c e s p a c e s p a c e s p a c e s p a c e
- On this harvest moon
- Bits & Pieces
- Anonymous
- An End Of Another Type
- a disappearing act
- Sec
-
▼
October
(55)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
No comments:
Post a Comment