Kiss me beneathe the tree
under which I heard you sing.
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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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November
(40)
- Say A Prayer
- Why must our contentment be measured against what...
- I dwell in the possibilities of my heart and your...
- There is no silence merely an absence of sound
- fingers of winter a chill running through my neck ...
- From the ashes of myself I arise This morning li...
- Ignorance is no longer enough of a reason to keep ...
- Fear is a predator lurking within us all.
- For Now
- Memory is a reincarnation of the past.
- Known quantities in the unknown universe.
- We could have had something more but we did nothi...
- To define something is to c...
- Is not every age beautiful?
- Don't let the snakes back into your heart
- Love is crazy and so am I I think we'll be good fo...
- Invisible History
- If we are not in the process of changing is it no...
- What will you do with your fleeting beauty?
- morning tides
- A life of dreaming is not a life wasted as much as...
- When I forget myself I am at peace When I am at p...
- Kiss me beneathe the tree under which I heard you...
- Idle Moments
- Visualize
- I was not wise in my youth and as I grow gray I wo...
- Unremarkable
- Three Thoughts
- Morning Greetings
- The voice will emerge if the mind is opened.
- season without end patiently waiting for rain gra...
- There is no beauty in cleverness that does not en...
- The End of Fecundity
- Season of dust
- Wake before the sun You cry to fill simple needs W...
- My hands do not know The master for whom they spea...
- Nameless together Bound by no human language Speak...
- What keeps you waiting Don't plan on eternal life ...
- In passing moonlight Memory is forgetful Beautiful...
- Everything has passed Everything is passing still ...
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November
(40)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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