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The Noise Of Trouble
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
Sunday, December 25, 2016
If words are all we have
we must give those away as well.
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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.
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Dionysian Dialect
A Chronological Archive of Joy and Heartache most often referred to as LIFE
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underfoot
Your Son
1.) Mother (Where were You When I Saw Jesus?) 2....
Paved
Echo of bells from the steeple I do not wake Sim...
An inability to forgive demonstrates An inability...
I am not searching For cheap relief Give me the r...
Dreams of a Sweet and Distant Life
Hardwired for Kindness
All that I have I will give you All that I have I...
Dark Bloom
Hewn Man
Your youth is no promise of immortality.
If there are no further words to sing I have no us...
Who are we other than to bear witness to life?
What are the parameters of your enslavement?
Must the world be burning Before we begin to save it?
year
Man's cruelty is the least imaginative part of ou...
If words are all we have we must give those away ...
An iron heart must learn to forgive
The Many Lives of Ghosts
Rise
clearing
to speak again
Alone you cry tonight Together but apart now Feeli...
Rest your head Sleep in the peace Of Winter's drea...
Rising to the sky Feet point downwards to the grou...
Tyranny knows when to c...
A Season of Unrealistic Expectations
A Who's Who of Who is That?
One-liners, Quips, Cracks, & Wit
Too Angry to Cry
Unseen Moments
BRAIN WASHER
Salvation
Love & Death Sex & Grief
Color of Flowers
Joy & Grief
Lyric Fragment
Send me a postcard from Hell.
Bitter Angels
December morning Where are you now my dearest Floc...
Present tensions Past life memories Future tense r...
Death from a Clear Blue Sky
Dreams from the Unborn World
What good is flesh Separated from The soul?
We carry on as normal Even if the world inside us ...
Time is never a thing that is wasted- It is eithe...
The Front Lines of Nowhere
Struggles with Myself and Others.
Shivering Skeleton Fingers
How beautiful must an image be For me to carry it ...
Life gives us as much as it takes from us.
What Remains After
living as a ghost all truths are revealed
Your truth is more complicated than any lie could...
How differently would we act If we knew how much l...
I may be older But my heart is No less heavy.
The Heavens grow too heavy with tears Fi...
Whatever happened to All the promises I ever made...
Your arms remain open Though I am miles and miles...
Kindness and forgiveness both originate in the sa...
The Name the Wind Calls Itself.
Brother of my blood Are our bonds thicker Than tho...
To Rise
moving in silence breath in the chill morning air ...
You woke and said it felt as though this were stil...
Blood not spilled is blood still living.
Elder
Human Barbarism
On Natural Rights of Man
The spectre of hate and intolerance is more than a...
Sin corazon no hay vida
Your heart is Liberated territory. Defend it with ...
If there are no gods in the heavens Then by what d...
If only I could fly There would be no tree No bran...
Meditation
Bareness
Nothing is True Everything is Possible
Good days and better days.
slow morning wake up consciousness filters back in...
When
Snowfall
Molten gold poured down the throat of your enemie...
Can truth still breed in a world full of liars?
I am just a shadow of the love we once had.
Dead-Eyed Horror Show
My thoughts are carried away by the wind ...
Dying creatures on an infertile world.
If the light is catching you Will it let you go?
Songs of a Distant Earth Songs for a Distant Earth
Ignorance in the young is understandable. Ignoranc...
Sin of Idleness
December First
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About Me
R
I'm an outgoing introvert, maybe you're one too.
View my complete profile
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