a rose
blossoming at night,
petals spreading
a thorn
piercing skin,
blood dripping
down your
hand.
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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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2011
(705)
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April
(73)
- Immoral Machine
- transition
- Currency
- Blossoming
- evergreen
- Careful With Your Words Please
- As Winter
- Predator
- Tangled Logic
- Your Voice In The Gathering Storm
- Social Critique & Emotional Hatefuck
- A Collection of Thoughts
- Scorched Landscape
- Debussy : 1st Arabesque
- describing
- Speak Easy (Draft 3)
- Ancient Architecture & Future Ruins
- Thoughts On A Conversation with Venus
- Slaughter-House
- The Hard Pour
- Spoken Normally, Fast, and S l o w
- After the Mourning
- The Artist (Draft 3)
- Hello,
- what there is to hold
- Don't Mess with the Fauna
- A Snapshot of a Days Worth of Stray Thoughts
- Apocalypse Heart
- Undoing desire is the first step in the path to ...
- No more Pyrrhic victories.
- We are droplets in the tide crashing upon the s...
- The Ghosts We've All Become
- Glass Eye
- Breathing You In
- The Aching Age of Agony The Age of Aching Agony ...
- Thinking About Last Night
- Confluence of Limbs Confusion of Whims
- The Familiar Feel of Home
- Finding Face
- For the Thursday Night Bartender
- Whatever It Takes
- cut off the tongue and speak with you hand, anythi...
- There is fiction in our loves that finds itself i...
- Never Love Those You Cannot Have
- Daisy Owl: On Existence
- Alice and Elizabeth Taylor
- We Are All We Have
- the spontaneous overflow of emotion?
- In Memory We Are Eternal
- The Tasks of Hands
- Thoughts on "The Cart" by Mary Ruefle
- ripples of thought
- "These vices are divisive. There's no consensus ...
- Women
- She couldn't help but wonder what it was that had ...
- Awareness
- green screen heartbeat
- Lost
- Director
- The Nights Are As Kind As They Are Cruel
- Fighting Battles, Losing Wars
- a sweet hurt
- What Happened That Night
- Pattern Recognition
- endless gaze
- dust in the attic
- I remember
- the words
- Sap
- Goddess,
- So what
- I'm
- A Plethora of Single Fragment Thoughts For Ease of...
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▼
April
(73)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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