When I got to the end
I realized that the only
place I could go was
back again.
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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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▼
September
(60)
- An Ordered Sense Of Repetition.
- Do We?
- Dreaming At The Edge Of the World...
- Arms Outstretched, The Wind In Her Hair...
- When Right Makes Might.
- The Essential Problem
- When the Flames Consume Us...
- C & E
- Antagonist
- The Failure of a Seamstress
- walls
- Cutting Fruit
- Sleep Machine
- Brief Freewrite
- The Limitations Of.
- Eternal Truth
- Reptilian
- a counterintuitive feline sense
- threadbare
- The Future of Cartography is in the Mapping of ...
- Try Again
- Inevitable End / Inevitable Beginning
- Between joy and emptiness the landscape is gray ...
- BATTLE
- Charmer
- Sequence
- Quiero ver la manera en que naturalmente estas.
- Bliss
- Strange Fates ________ Do the alignments of the pl...
- What Remains After The Rain?
- divine submission to eternal vibrations.
- patience what a dull virt ue to be a practi cione...
- Memories wrapped in tears and fears as we remembe...
- When I got to the end I realized that the only pla...
- Our strength comes both from within and outside o...
- How I Am Starting This Morning
- A Sin Free Life
- WHAT
- Lineage
- Rolando Mena
- Come cut me open and find a heart still beating ...
- Separating One Ambition From Another
- A Selective Process
- St. Vincent
- These are not the names we had from when we've ...
- in the time of our passing
- your situation at hand
- The spirit wanes as those of ill intent gather t...
- dumb and numb my son
- Take My Hand Please
- Advice
- Give It A Decade Or So
- As They Come
- Eternities Removed
- I S H A T T E R LIKE BONES IN A F I S T ...
- Lengua De Plata
- I cry when I see the hollowness of your eyes.
- Amber
- what has been sold
- On A Turning Point
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▼
September
(60)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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