i read the wind. the words color me in shades of scented gardenias. the words take to the clouds, and write their sex song. i
the moon waits for me. i become the terpsichorean, naked, fragile, unclothed in darkness. my hips are my cauldron. i stir. i stir for the
I am lost in thoughts that I do not own.
Our peach tree is really coming along nicely. Each day the peaches get brighter and fuller. I’m excited and can’t wait until they fully mature so I can begin to eat them. Like this:Like Loading…
I am halfheartedly searching for a road back to Earth. The other half of my heart seeks a quiet world.
Writing Prompt: Whisper Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. Most of what I write is an experiment where I allow words
The poem below by Frost is the life I’ve always lived, the road less traveled. It keeps me sane, even as it sometimes leaves me
I won’t be saved by you. Only the sky can save me from this blue world wondering how it came to be.
I read this piece by Yeats recently and it struck a cord. The Lake Isle of Innisfree W. B. Yeats, 1865 – 1939 I will
Someone called me today, a loved one. She said she was lonely. But I am too far away to just show up on her doorstep and take her out so we can run the streets like school girls. I could hear it in her voice, the loneliness she tried to conceal behind laughter as she…
The days meld into each other. Each one a link in a chain. The chain slowly reaching into the distance. This is our lives, each
Photograph by zaji This was the sky over my house yesterday. Such a beautiful sight. The sky is a constant reminder of my mortality. When
Every now and then a bit of beauty falls onto my lap and reminds me that there just might be a pinhole of hope for
Photographer Unknown It was the mid 80s. I was 18 years old. I was working at a local video store renting out videos for a Prince height Italian man whose accent betrayed his birthplace, which was clearly not Italy. He was a Bronx born Italian, who mixed Americanized Italian with yiddish insults. When I didn’t…
Photo Prompt: Dinnertime …This week, share an image inspired by dinnertime — whether you take a photo of food or simply shoot during the evening
I walk the dusty road of false time, seeking angels with broken wings. Only they know my sorrow and how unforgiving the gods can be.
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In the space of love and courage, I breathed you in and exhaled the touches you left on my skin. Letting go brings pain and