Wednesday, 13 December 2017

wallflower social

may the social sphere be elastic, i wished, and expand without cracking and breaking off, falling like an icicle and killing me where I stand.

in the meanwhile i got my couple hours a day good medicine in writing my book, my blog, and making out with words.

the tongue kissing was the best part and the audience swooned by the character studies i inhabited.

inhibitions were wall flowers to our garden variety virtual open microphone affairs.

Tuesday, 12 December 2017

the best feeling

can be an everyday feeling not an unusual feeling and not one i wake up to necessarily, no, the best feeling arrives in the process of the right action, when i am doing the good and often unpleasant work. and when the hard work proves the best feeling, time after time, we see we can count on it. that's how the hard work becomes just a little easier for us, and living begins to knock kindly.

Monday, 11 December 2017

in kind

Correspondence was not much fun anymore. i was lucky if i got a card in the mail. emails made me nervous because there were so many awaiting reply. the days of receiving long letters penned in script by hand in ink on someone's personal stationery were over. i had a thought. if i took the time to write letters the old way again, bypassing text and email and chat and video, and even bypassing phone, would I get a response in kind? and then might time turn back for us and write our lives the way we once wrote them, when we wrote long missives on personal stationery with silver trim and painted envelopes, hanging sideways over our elbows, quietly playing with each letter,  slowly, conscientiously by scripted hands, young and rolling in ink.

Sunday, 10 December 2017


a starless sky
moving sea
a diving hawk
you and me

the sea
the starless

turn around

Saturday, 9 December 2017


this morning i woke up at dawn and followed the river for a while. the sun came up and the breath disappeared. dogs ran up and down the levee. i showered and dressed and took a spirited step out the door and drove down to a sacred place where i met with some friends to create a reading and writing group. though i have never brought folks together before formally for the purpose, my whole life i have preferred the society of artists and writers, rebels and dreamers. and mostly caring friends. so i am hoping this read.write.publish initiative will go off well for us, and come in with twenty eighteen.

Friday, 8 December 2017


finite articulated outlined forms are no longer sacred. they may be one thing today and another, tomorrow.

our love is murky we cannot see the bottom. the light takes on form, passing through. my love for you is imperfect. overcast.

it never changes.
we can touch the sky.

Thursday, 7 December 2017

bubble gum holy city

as a symbol Jerusalem represents so much to the world and its religions. one would be outright foolish to try and wrap the archetype around some personal or even interpersonal wet dream. corporate thought processes delude you. pursuit of a bubble gum packaging theme. one could lose faith.