Jim Heehee [Is dead]

Meaningless sorrys

I gambled it all in a desperate act of searching for help. I hoped she would understand and tell me its ok and to help me when I need her most but she doesnt. I of course do not blame her for this, I ...
Posted by on Fri, 16 May 2008 17:43:00 GMT

Scorned

She stood to the fire free from conflictionthe creeping remorse remained just thatAs a teary eyed victim she was everythingNow she stood so coldThe bites they made were terminalAll she had now was thi...
Posted by on Wed, 06 Feb 2008 19:20:00 GMT

A short story

It was either his impeccable punctuality or the intimate way he would sit beneath that dying apple tree. Like clockwork, Monday to Friday at 12:47pm, he would appear from the west. He would seem to be...
Posted by on Mon, 21 Jan 2008 15:25:00 GMT

Gun Ho Love

Mist invades the space you heldswirling and without no quarterCrashing waves of emptynessthat comes when your not hereFlotsom as I sit, lost so lostno anchor, no island, nothingI am trapped here, spli...
Posted by on Fri, 18 Jan 2008 20:33:00 GMT

Racecar

Is racecar
Posted by on Sun, 13 Jan 2008 20:02:00 GMT

Blue Moonlight

A fraction of the moon is showing tonightit seems disjointed and out of placeThe light has been sucked out of sight,tumbling as it goes, reminding me of rabbits.My unwitting pursuit has led me herean ...
Posted by on Wed, 09 Jan 2008 14:52:00 GMT

The final conclusion

I close my eyesand there I amI'm lost, forever lostI feel aroundclumsy approachGaining sight, figments...I'm looking at a path its song reaching meconsuming all reasonI step out of the woodsflowers su...
Posted by on Wed, 02 Jan 2008 18:38:00 GMT

The Shadow

I'm surrounded by soundpulsating from all anglestheir tales lost on melight flickers off my eyesdancing into obliviontempting me in vaindespondence runs rifeTheir struggle reflects minecontrasting sim...
Posted by on Sun, 30 Dec 2007 14:04:00 GMT

A wee poem

I did not plan to write this nightNon existent musingsGives way to inspiring tears, a tragic loving hoplite Smallest of things do thisResting of headson hands I would blessand kiss, hold, such blissMy...
Posted by on Fri, 28 Dec 2007 19:51:00 GMT

Writers block is gooood

Pessimisticly, I writeMy reason is shrouded in fogEncassed within Blakes headstoneDrowning in limboFighting for reasonMy mind flickers to herReluctently I cast her outFor her I will not share with you...
Posted by on Sat, 22 Dec 2007 20:06:00 GMT