Category Archives: Writing

Prepared to write bad poetry, I place my muddled thoughts up front, my pen in hand, and shifting in my seat, I set the pace of meter pulsing: rhythm on demand. There’s more to it than drumming – vowels grace … Continue reading →

I’ve seen attacks on concrete walls, with cans of paint, transformative in hands so fast. But more impressive is the way the man’s applying ink to paper makes a cast of monsters matter, pens a scene or act. He draws … Continue reading →

I never lived there long enough to trust it to be home; my memories are bright and pointless arrows littered in the rust that perforates a rooftop gone to blight. What I intended moves were really stays in houses built … Continue reading →

There isn’t any poetry in here. My brain is ranging wide – creatively I should be flush, with all my cells in gear – emotions popping so the path should be as obvious as marijuana’s dear. I lied: that little … Continue reading →

Commitment isn’t burned in me by vow, and ritual will hardly stir a breeze within my windy self. These lines say how I start to work and bear its stress with ease: I do and do and then I work … Continue reading →

I used to wait for inspiration’s nudge. The spirit moved me now and then to write, and what emerged was hard for me to judge because my type so rarely saw the light. Then I’d produce a poem or two … Continue reading →

I thought a story had to have a plot – I jotted sex or drugs disturbing peace, but had to crank it up cause I forgot sensation is like porn; it needs increase. So character development was next, but that … Continue reading →