What the heart wants
is everything.
It can accept nothing less.
What a greedy child
it is.
It is incapable
of learning.
It wants
without care.
It wants
and will do
anything to achieve
what it desires.
Greedy child,
what have
you wrought upon
us all
since time immemorial?
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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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▼
September
(27)
- The sky will always be impossibly beautiful.
- Give up everything that doesn't matter.
- The Way We Say Goodbye
- A Practical Guide to the Impractical.
- Beauty is not rare, it dares to exist in a world ...
- Realistic Expectations
- Tired Poem
- The Tired Sigh of Submission.
- The Architecture of Dreams
- At Some Point
- Movement
- Move into ecstasy Submit to the sound surroundi...
- Breakdowns
- My ABC's
- Dinosaurs in the Garden
- Rubber Ducky
- Father & Son
- You and what God?
- 2 lines
- Greed
- Fundamental Desire
- Dichotomy of Noise
- Oscillate
- Lingering Hunger
- The pieces have been scattered to the wind. Is th...
- This Business
- At My Departure
-
▼
September
(27)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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