Tag Archives: hate


if i didnt hate myself
so much
maybe i would stop
punishing myself
with the memory
of you

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Gratitude: Part 6

This morning I am grateful for:

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Auditions Are…Rolling Genome…Middleground

So – I have been keeping up with the Challenge but have been super-busy and under-the-weather. Took a health day today and stayed in bed (and on my computer) working. That “time-off” was well spent in that I now have Days 28, 29, and 30 edited and formatted, just waiting for your perusal! Like in all the other posts, read the play by clicking the title. Hope you enjoy!

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Protected: Glossed Over

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What If Wonderful

Her skin is an ivory icon to Odin bleached pallid by the sun, perched on by two ravens that harken darker than:

Her onyx skin baked by the cool light of the moon in the savannah, howled at by hyenas engrained with the elegance of giraffe neck novelties.

Her skin is kissed by the Tuscan sun tumbling toward the horizons that hang at her hips,
lips licked by solar flares stinging more fiercely than her absence when she’s set her sights on seeing other heliotropes.

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Neither Nor

Somewhere ’round the dime store there was a kind shore, when poetry paused in eloquence and practiced what it said in store,
Bored beyond the musty surface and wondered at a purpose.

The more you grow the more you know you don’t know shit; shrugged shoulders go,
Carrying six plastic bags stacked and packed with who knows what,
He didn’t have three bucks for a hot dog,
And the way he shuffled along you’d know his days were long.

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First Attempt @ Phone Your Blog, featuring On the Matter of the Subject of Ignorance on Pimps and Tricks

Due to the submission of this poem to a magazine, I cannot distribute the written account of it. Please be assured that as soon as it becomes available definitively, I shall post it here. Regarding my thoughts on the new WordPress feature: I think that if I felt the need to post something immediately, this would be an excellent measure, but I am very rarely in that predicament – though it is convenient (and I can live with the, presumably, signal-based choppiness…for now) as I haven’t had a ton of face-time with my computer (which is somewhat of a wonderful thing as I’m not being reclusive, engulfed in a digital world…except when I’m at work), trying to figure out Audacity. The poem is dedicated to Artikulate, who inspired its writing, helping to refine in me a wiser man: thank you for being you and helping these words shine through.

Yes, I am aware I called it Voice Your Blog in the audio. Oh well. When I get a cleaner file together I’ll swap them out. In the meantime, thanks for listening in.