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3 0 3

Where Pennies, Loose Change, and Singled-Out-Socks Go

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1
6 0 6

beginning again

improvement within our lives
is something that we strive
to accomplish daily.

at least,
that should be our goal
when we awaken from
our daily slumber
and work through another day.

so that is why i am here...
staining my fingertips
with ink that will not wash off easily;
seeking advice,
wisdom and knowledge
from those who are already
accomplishing more in their writing.

give me your honesty
your criticism
and your truths
for without those vital factors
i will never grow.

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Notice

As I sit here, in the comfy chair by the corner window, I begin to notice. The man flirting with the woman at the bar, but surreptitiously glancing at the male bartender who keeps giving them drinks on the house. The hostess making her rounds, with an empty glass of wine in her hand. The couple, who just entered the room, standing a little farther apart than would be expected. I notice the man in another chair, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper like a someone running out of time. The teenage girl, who's sitting on the couch and pretending to text her friends, but really watching the boy across the room who's standing in the corner, examining the book spines. I notice the frost beginning to form on the window, and the elderly woman drawing designs on it. The man sitting at the island, watching his coffee go cold. I notice all of these, and realize that while we're all in the same room, we're all alone.

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5 0 5

she was dickinson

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1
8 1 7

Novels I Never Got Around to Reading but Wanted To.

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1
6 1 5

one

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1
1 0 1

This Bitter Cold ...

The bitter cold bites me in the arse

temperature drops the ten inch mercury,

I shivered as time stood still

The air dead frozen, muffing my ears.

 

Sun shining high up in the sky

its so called warmth told us lies,

I see no clouds and I highly doubt

that Winter will be nice to us.

 

As I sit my lazy arse on my bed

covering myself with all the blankets,

No warmth was given

but I fight on, Living

for another day.

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8 0 8

the sky was the
color of old
steel and it
made us cling
to the hopes
that sunshine would
come one day,
but tears from
angles unseen fell
as we said goodbye
to the time you had left- 

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10 0 10

little things v1

I am so very little,
these words and sentences are dwarfish
in the shadow of phrases turning like rivers
swift and deep into the mind,
a current into the heart.
yet I am not but little,
so little I must be:
these are my little things.

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8 0 8

Perilous Presence

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