Archive for the ‘Prose’ Category
Distilled Dreams [Prose Poem]
Echoes of things forgotten in childhood cast from a mountain are microscopic stones thrown against winter winds. Life flourishing at the bottom. Consciousness freezing at the summit. Iron holds us at the wrists and ’round the waists. Sinking but unable to struggle! Like the nightmare I had on the hard basement apartment floor after mom […]
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Tags: anxiety, child, dream, image, monster, nightmare, poem, poet, scream, sleep
The Business of Breaking Bonds
Arguments can get rocky when someone experiences a perception shift. This is especially true when the other individual does not experience the same change in thinking. On the largest scale nothing matters, none of this. On the smallest, our disagreement is imperceptible, incomprehensible, even unnecessary. But on some level this problem is the biggest obstacle […]
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Tags: argument, conversation, disagreement, fight, Friends, neighbor
Missing Steps
You always get a strange prickly feeling when you step off for what should have been the last step. You’ve miscounted, do a little more math and you’re lurching forward, empyting your contents on the floor.
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The Week From… Heck
No, I’m not shy about saying the double ll word, hell, there you go! I am, however, also a big fan of the word heck! I’m also hoping things don’t get too much worse, hard to imagine but I would like to reserve “hell” just in case my head goes flying off or something horribly […]
Filed under: Food, Prose, Rant, Reality, Time & Money, Writing ♥ | Leave a Comment
Tags: debt, DHS, food assistance, life, money, write
Writing My Way Out Of Iowa
If I can write my way out of a paper bag I can hopefully write my way out of Iowa. I love the Midwest. I love where I grew up but the more I learn about my world the more I want to get out, experience it and possibly try to change it for the […]
Filed under: Death, Dreams, Philosophy, Prose, Reality, Voice, Writing ♥ | Leave a Comment
Tags: collective, consumer, dream, freethinker, iowa, karma, postaday2011
Mid-Nite Conquests
Other-worldly dreams keep me at peace while I put them through paces: various men, various places. Vicariously kissing in dreams, pressing lips, connecting faces. Familiar amalgamations possess piercing, forgettable eyes. It seems as though appearances are constantly changing, idyllic features turn sour and are replaced by more pleasing countenances, a million copies of his face. […]
Filed under: ♥ Creativity, Dreams, Poetry, Prose, Writing ♥ | 1 Comment
Tags: Conquest, eyes, men, poem, Poetry, postaday2011, strangers, Trophy
The Dead Stripes & Beyond
When I hear your music alone, or in a crowded room, I’m not alone, I’m understood.
Filed under: ♥ Creativity, Music ♪, Photographic Novel, Photography, Poetry, Prose, The Dead Weather, Voice | Leave a Comment
Tags: Alison Mosshart, Dean Fertita, Jack Lawrence, jack white, music, Ogden, postaday2011, the dead weather, The Raconteurs, the white stripes
The grey kitty is Gracie. We got her after swimming at the beach at George Wythe. People were giving away cute little kittens and we took the smallest one, she fit in the center of your hand and even as a fully grown adult remains a very tiny grey cat with a tiny patch of […]
Filed under: Death, Gracie, Past, Pets ♥, Photographic Novel, Photography, Prose | Leave a Comment
Tags: alive, cardboard, change, dad, growing up, house, kern, life, pets, postaday2011, snow, street, taxes
True lovers. Really true lovers, like the kinds you find in fairy tales. They may be unrealistic. Heroes and heroines rarely if ever stand up against evil, at least to the greatest evils: poverty, starvation, debt, classism, serfdom, slavery and genocide. All of these things continue to exist in our world due to a disproportionate […]
Filed under: Fairytales, Prose, Reality, Story Ideas, Time & Money, Voice | Leave a Comment
Tags: book, choice, debt, destiny, disney, exercise, lovers, nevermore, npr, obama, postaday2011, real world, writing
Missel Toes
I have no idea why I chose that title it just sort of popped so I’m sure it’ll work its way into our conversation. You: never call me back, never read my drafts. I want what I can’t have, have been known to take a drag. Queen bee me: looking endlesslessly through blue-green eyes. I […]
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Tags: conversation, decorate, draft, eyes, heart, idea, mile, missel toes, Prose, queen bee, read, smile, star, you






