The land is still
wild. It is we
who have forgotten
our roots.
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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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▼
2014
(302)
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▼
July
(22)
- Natural Strength
- Hunted to Extinction
- Apple
- Over Rum
- Dig
- setting/restoration
- Future Band Name
- On Being
- The Great Desert
- Streetlights
- There are many things I wish I could be but alas I...
- three brief trains
- interpreting space
- Sitting At Your Desk
- Write your dreams in the water I'll carve mine in ...
- Intuitive Mathematics
- A partial view of the unobstructed universe.
- Our desires are older than civilization.
- Neighbors
- After the Fire
- Writing Freely, Breathing Deeply
- Geologic Time
-
▼
July
(22)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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