Category Archives: Writing

My natural point-of-view, when crafting prose, is somewhat like a fly upon the wall inside a place where characters I chose are interacting normally with all the room’s inhabitants. I seek no big catastrophe or comic interlude – I want … Continue reading →

I’ve always had a literary friend or two, who loves to read and longs to write, but never have encountered one who’d spend the time to practice. She awaits a flight of fancy seldom lifting off the ground, while he’s … Continue reading →

I didn’t mean to write this poem today. I mean, I didn’t set myself the task. I sat and tossed a 5-beat line, the way a child kicks a can. So don’t you ask me to defend a word, or … Continue reading →

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 →