blackened
trod upon
hardened
torn up road
grating it
readying new asphalt
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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
-
▼
2013
(348)
-
▼
January
(47)
- What Was Different
- I am the enemy, I am the hero.
- Don't let weakness stake a claim in you.
- Universal Self-Portrait
- Silent Ways
- Meeting Mary
- Let's Grow Old
- Reasons
- Wolf & Honey
- Wot's the deal?
- Content From A Shoebox
- 4 bits
- Please Edit
- Where Falcons Roost
- "Nothing was happening. Everything was happenin...
- You is no substitute for I
- What Is Missed
- Decades of dust ancient sediment define the stra...
- Knight With No Horse
- make no plan plot no love live no lie absorb tr...
- A Natural Beauty
- Store Bought
- Possible/People/Sounds
- Rising Arc (freewrite)
- Spelling The Alphabet
- Continual Change
- Waking Sounds
- I don't want to wait to see your face.
- I don't need perfection, I need honesty.
- Age is a disease everyone accepts.
- Tell Yourself
- Mechanical Connection
- Life always works to broader your horizons.
- When you were near I wasn't there nor anywhere.
- The Intrinsic Self
- An Unkind
- Everything Breaking Down
- Visitor
- I see your face I know your taste
- Left Behind
- Economics
- Enough Rest
- Time to start using my heart for what it was made ...
- Lick Your Wounds And Love Again
- Asphalt Heart
- Life rewards those who pick the fruit of the tree.
- Nesting Dolls
-
▼
January
(47)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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