Monthly Archives: January 2012

Did you hear it? The sound of the month whoooooshing by, a whispershoutsong carried by breeze and trees and flashlight moon and simmered sun, ticking and tricking of clock, the rock of stones both known and thrown and silent pebbled … Continue reading →

I am not from but of here.   This blue the hue of my song.   Fine grains of sand my own heart’s pieces finding promise, place along shoreline tumbled tuned tucked by moonlight and tide and whispering pine; scattered … Continue reading →

 (a Fib)   The sound of you: lies, silence. Just hand me your guilt gilded heart. My last breath holds no innocence.    

Find the fun, and get ’er done. –       Mommy Dear amazing, intelligent, beautiful, lazy @$$ children,  There will be things in life that you don’t want to do. Do them anyway.   Like cleaning your room and doing your homework … Continue reading →

  she ……….(seeds scattered, sewn) ………………back together by her own two …………………..trembling …………………………….hands, stands (using the term loose-leafily) …………………………….pushes against her own shallow shadowed edges ………………………..folds these tired ………………………………………apoplectic zombie ……………………………………………………….limbs ………………………………………………………….fragile heart ……………………………………………………………beats …………………………………………………………………barks ……………………………………………………………bites ……………………………………………………………fights,   …………………………………………………………..carves her … Continue reading →

should you choose to do some clickin’, I wrote a little “brief” somethin’ that’s a departure from my usual. (See how it “ends.”) http://flashyfiction.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-post.html#comment-form  

  Willow weeps, and my heart seeks this quiet place beneath. Shadows dance, heart beats.  

She crawls up in my lap, some small gazelle now, legs spindling out in all directions. I breathe in her warm heartbeat, freeze, in fear of her fleeing loose once more.  

Preach me your love unwavering your talk of bridges over walls and forgiveness for falls with your holier than thou smile so bright on the other side of these tired tracks.   Show me your hands unspotted your silent stones … Continue reading →

The pen might be mightier than the sword, but sometimes it’s also infinitely harder to pick up.                                              – De Jackson   Heavy, this. Instrument of poem and pleasure and pain and promise, tuning fork whittling … Continue reading →