Sixty-six Stories |
Below is a short story, the deadline for which is today. I've been working on it for a few weeks, and some of you have heard me talk about it. I'm posting it here, now, because I'd like to get some ho... Posted by on Tue, 07 Oct 2008 19:21:00 GMT |
In the coming age, Or how classic rock can change your life... |
There's this great song that everybody knows called "You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet" by Bachman Turner Overdrive. Like most classic rock songs, it's not really about anything; the only purpose of any goo... Posted by on Tue, 09 Sep 2008 21:18:00 GMT |
With my own eyes, or, Psalm 19b |
His feet take up into themselves
The braille written in the cool stones beneath him
Laid by in an ancient stream,
Bright with waters on pilgrimage.
She trails the rhythm of a naked elm aga... Posted by on Tue, 26 Feb 2008 21:31:00 GMT |
A brief symphony |
It was a song
When I towered on both knees;
I was a lit match surging
Because my fingers were curled
Into the hairs of Your face.
And You imbued me,
Somewhere in my ribcage,
With everything I needed... Posted by on Wed, 13 Feb 2008 20:10:00 GMT |
I Need |
I Need
To see the air spread wide
And stretch my wings until
The night is friendlier, till we are
Cheek to cheek with the stars.
And if we sing, our voices will only lilt
To give time for breath unti... Posted by on Sat, 02 Feb 2008 15:07:00 GMT |
When |
When the road rose to meet me
When tomorrow sent invitations in a fine hand
When the journey came even to my door at night
And whispered till morning
When my feet met willing soil
When the w... Posted by on Fri, 01 Feb 2008 19:15:00 GMT |
Ode to my couch |
This is a little unorthodox
But I think it is appropriate
Seeing as how you've given so much to me;
This is for all those times I could have been creating
But you saved me, you held me fast
For all th... Posted by on Tue, 22 Jan 2008 13:13:00 GMT |
Man with a guitar. |
I remember seeing Van Gogh's
"Man with a guitar" for the first time,
wanting so badly to say that; to take all the blue in me
and turn it into something beautiful,
and it's the same when I stare down ... Posted by on Tue, 22 Jan 2008 13:09:00 GMT |
A Letter to My Organ Donor |
I lean into You in the mornings,
Blue-violet portraits made sacred by the kindling sun,
When the light is young and reaching through my dirty window
To massage this cold room to life
See a dr... Posted by on Sat, 29 Dec 2007 17:41:00 GMT |
The hard season |
These are tankas, a japanese form of poetry akin to haiku. There are five lines; the first line has five syllables, the second has seven, the third has five, then the last two have se... Posted by on Mon, 10 Dec 2007 05:54:00 GMT |