In this well
are only ashes.
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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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2015
(328)
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August
(35)
- Song Without Words
- Weight of a Sentence
- You can only live the same dream for so long.
- In this well are only ashes.
- Lucky in an indifferent world.
- I've got a frozen tongue in the freezer that's got...
- Nothing matters Everything is worth saving
- Life Feeds on Life
- To contemplate the visage.
- The weighted wreck of expectation.
- Bubbles, Spheres, and Planes of Intersection.
- Daydreams float like seeds On the wind. Which wi...
- Cut through the bullshit and find what matters mos...
- I don't want to be the bad man I know I've been.
- To fall in love from a distance is the only folly.
- I want to be able to forgive myself.
- Broken Cymbal Symphony
- We conquer our inadequacies or are consumed by them.
- Creative Cruelty
- I'm just a shadow of myself. I'm not the me I coul...
- To be alive is to be in a state of perpetual fragi...
- There is no growth without hardship and pain.
- Even the faintest light can take us to where we n...
- Stringing the Present
- Your dreams are as beautiful as I have known you t...
- slow parade
- Classifying Dreams
- Is it beautiful out there?
- Echo Park Summer
- Nature has always made it easy for man to believe...
- La Virgen de Echo Park
- The proof is everywhere.
- freewrite 8/6/15
- The ground opened like a mouth and swallowed me wh...
- Give and forgive.
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▼
August
(35)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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