Posts
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last week i fell in love with the rain
last week
she reached out
brushing my cheek
with her soft steady touch
her whispers filled the air
gentle -
I hear it now
i hear it now.
not a whisper
nor a shout
i hear it now.
the future
a call
distant
melancholy?
i can’t help
but wonder
how much am I leaving behind?
i hear it now.
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The two men who did it all
Once there was a man
Who could
Do
It
All.
A man of many arts
The stage
The desk
The microphone -
it’s mine, not theirs.
note: this is not targeted at anyone, it’s just my opinion :)
Writing is my pulse,
my breath,
my way of being.
They don’t own my words,
my thoughts,
my voice. -
How did we get here?
How did we get here?
With a man who lies
and stirs the storm,
who turns hate into headlines
and power into a joke. -
squishy
There’s a squishy feeling, like your fingers
pressed into soft dough,
the way your body sinks
into the warm, endless bed of a blanket.
Loves
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Footprints - Haiku
The fresh snow glistens.
Animal prints and sneakers.
Who has walked through here?
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Becky's Sketchbook
The first time I saw her, she was clutching a sketchbook in her arms. It was very plain-looking with a black cover and golden spirals.
Every week at church, she carried that sketchbook. I never saw her without it.
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My Oak Tree, My Hope
Nestled within the plains of the Midwest,
Isolated and alone,
Stands a wholesome oak tree.
Her dark, chestnut body hemmed in by the mucky acorns,
Those of which were shed out of sorrow.
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The Thief and The Author
Part 1 — The Thief
“Have a good night.”
“You too,” I responded dryly from behind the counter.
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Fragile
Fragile
We all hurt...some worse than others...
They might say they're ok, but they aren't...
They don't want you to worry so they hide their feels...