Mozart — Requiem
in D minor — Night finds me outside the cemetery gates, without recollection of travel or where I had been. In rising of the moon I see you just the other side, behind a freshly dug grave with a headstone of Israel marble. You seem as out of place as the stone itself. Antique…
A Christmas Guest — Timberland
A short story of a visit by an uninvited guest of unique nature while stranded in a cabin in unfamiliar woods. — The howling wind makes me uneasy. It always has, as if mother nature decided to scold me. The power outage follows me in with the last of my baggage, adding to the worry of discomfort and harm. Coupled with the total darkness brings me to the brink of concern. Moments…
Poetry — There are no magic words or clever rhyme to stay the aching of the heart or silence of the night void of sleep or peace which haunts until sun finds you solitary to greet the new day in hope of new love to ease the pain. https://medium.com/know-thyself-heal-thyself/lonely-947d9388e0fc?source=friends_link&sk=f06c0381f199187d2739f09c9879f583
(Preface) — A tale and a treat I have for you, a twist familiar, but a story new. It begins long ago in a place and time not yours to know. Riddle, it may seem, but I tell it true, this fable familiar; but new to you. So began our journey. End this story of nursery and liars den. Word of caution, words of warning, you might be a character within this yarn. So listen attentively if you care to return or I leave you behind to be butters churn.
Writer character, upfront and out loud — Day 0 The alarm sounds in the distance. Reaching… I am able to shut it down. I feel numb and outside of my body, as if it is a vessel within my control, but not my dwelling. I tremble to sit upright on the bed's edge, and struggle to know what day…
Is love the habit,
and sex the drug? — All of us the addicts. Does it concern you that the numbers exceed Opioid abuse and Meth combined? Should you be frightened we are conditioned from birth to crave the warmth of love, and no matter how often we experience the habit and its drug, we seek more. You should…
Hate is a fickle lover.
Have you been kicked to the curb? — Back in the day, as my father sometimes said. Hate was a picky little thing polarizing the usual suspects. It had a healthy diet choice of ethnicity as its mainstay with special order items like spousal or animal abuse. But times change, and hate wants to grow and dominate like…
Sirens singing — Voices of the pacific northwest, a sweet spot between Cali and Washington state. The dart hit the board near the Olympic area of Washington, allowing for spousal health considerations 86th that landing. The things we do in the name of love. I lived outside the shooting gallery of Chi-town forever. Love my second city, big apple! I hardly visit now, and it makes me sad. But truth be told, I am a forest, mountain, beach, big sky kind of person at the core. I prefer a wolf’s company to most humans and believe my best friends to be animal life. So you can understand how the glimmer of the city has faded. The beauty of a native woman rivals any runway poser.
Eternal waves crest
Landing upon heavens sands And if I wish upon a star, No matter if it near or far. I wonder My voice be heard this very night, In confidence or torrid fright. I wander The vastness of the velvet skies, Creamy clouds which hypnotize. I’m humbled Beneath moons blu which cast and light, Frost the dark to hearts delight. I am spellbound Gentle breeze of ocean scent, Your love of me is heaven sent. I kneel