There is violence in all our world.
It is readily apparent.
Wherever you look, it is there
Staring back at us hungrily.
This cycle repeats endlessly.
We cannot shield our childrens eyes,
We can only hold them closer.
Our love stands alone to spite it.
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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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2012
(436)
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January
(48)
- How Quickly Advice Becomes Vice.
- New Standards
- The Violent
- You taste like a mistake.
- Young Neil
- Struggles and Guesswork
- Regrets
- The Goddess Venus
- Knocking Over The Table
- Ability Does Not Equal Talent
- THINK FREELY THINK OPENLY
- The Body at rest
- Bone & Marrow
- We exist within the same time frame but occupy who...
- What It Is
- Approximating Location
- Scraps of Paper on my Cluttered Desk
- Mandrake Bar: Friday, January 20th 2011
- Drone
- Sweet Ave and Acceptance Blvd
- For J.Blowdryer
- beaches
- I AM OM.
- A Gradual State of Progress
- Stop Fucking Around
- a solitary fate
- Drops In a Bucket
- you always leave with the rain nothing here can ke...
- A Hardcore Punk Rock Lifestyle
- VENOMOUS HOWL
- THE BEST HYSTERIA MONEY CAN BUY.
- FreeJazz/Write
- filling space
- This Modern Life
- The Life Process
- Endless Returns
- Remembering why it meant so much makes it easier...
- Regrerts of the Dying
- The Failure of Language
- Competitive Distractions
- Facing Up
- peace and unease
- stranger
- MY MACHINE
- All Those Nights
- Lazy Bones
- Can we go ahead and return to normalcy already?
- FInishing A Book
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▼
January
(48)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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