Monthly Archives: July 2017

Avoidance

To sit in a void, a hard vacuum, would burst my eyes and boil my blood, and yet be so desirable. I could struggle with the contradiction, but prefer to just accept it like the warm embrace of winter. If … Continue reading

Posted in Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Onomatopoeia (#tbt)

What constitutes pure silence? If a tree falls in the woods… If we build a sound detector with an auditory acuity far more sensitive than our own, and it tells us there is noise we cannot hear, is our silence … Continue reading

Posted in Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Winding Road

The crooked line covers more ground. I’ve always preferred the scenic route, but I’m constantly more lost than found and a straight line has no time for doubt. I meander, sally, wander and wend, always walking to another place on … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Eye of the Storm (#tbt)

How many hurricanes are your fault? Remember when you were on vacation in Jamaica in October of 2012? On the 22nd you were at the beach. You let a silent-but-deadly fart slip out, much to the dismay of the British … Continue reading

Posted in Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Worst Day of My Life

I love my home and I love my life. I also love my struggles and my strife because only friction can sharpen knives. I love the dark and I love the light. I love the day and I love the … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fully Empty (#tbt)

Something wicked this way comes. Thick, wretched air chokes up my lungs. A grey-green smog blocks out the sun. Terror sets in, I start to run. I fear my time here may be done. I stumble, fall, now hope there’s … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Leave a comment

Light Lunch

If you are what you eat then it should be obvious that we’re all made of starlight, albeit at varying degrees of remove. It’s nearly impossible to see individual flecks of stardust when you’re surrounded by whole whirling worlds of … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment