How I loved you once.
Past tense?
Hmmm,
could be present tense
once more.
Perhaps
its always been.
It's hard to say.
It may not matter.
It was there once
and may yet
still be.
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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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▼
October
(64)
- The Heart Is a Resilient Machine.
- Emergency
- The Ocean In Between
- Honey, Oh.
- The Origins of Sand
- Look Out!
- Most Things
- A Rule of 6
- Restart
- Embrace
- Yeux comme des émeraudes
- How Hauntings Happen (or Letting Go Of The Ghost)
- WAR & PEACE
- What You Do With Advice
- Paths
- Eve
- A Laughing Nature
- the ones we loved
- Every Window Broken
- Pelvis + Criticism = ________
- We All
- Honey
- I can do a pretty good impression of myself.
- tied
- making clean
- movement
- Eternal Life
- On Love
- Before Anyone Else...
- Addition and Subtraction
- "Poetry Is Not A Project"
- Broken Windows
- The Dynamics of Power
- an exceeded outcome
- Cast Iron Heart
- Hole In The Attic
- FATE?
- Oh Night...
- Sentient
- A Musing On Music
- A Lesson On History
- Maybe
- Frail Strength
- Remember...
- A Pox of Lips.
- Halves of a Whole
- False starts for lonely hearts.
- It's True...
- A Quarter til 2 a.m.
- The Rain Reminded Me
- The Dark Side of the Dream.
- There is always sadness at the end of love.
- Lluvia
- All Under Heaven
- Continental Drift
- The good old days are long gone... what should w...
- Of Men & their Sons
- If you can steal their eyes you can steal their ...
- New Visions of the City
- Destroy The Narrative
- One Subject
- An Exampled Gleamed
- Weekend Morning
- Once again we've become the strangers we on...
-
▼
October
(64)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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