A Writer's 21st Century Memoir.

Posts from the ‘Writing’ category

When Thought Puzzles Become Art

I like to think that opposing thoughts are there to push the boundaries and shapes of the thought puzzles, and that these new pieces create even more structures and works or art.

#OctPoWriMo: Oct 24 – 31

He asked me what I would say to God if I could have any question answered,
And I said that I would have little to say.
If I had to go on living after the question I would endure the rest of a life substandard.

#OctPoWriMo | Oct 18 – 23

There we were still existing in a pause between breaths that attempted to move life forward. Our mouths were wide with smiles and our eyes frozen never seeing the day we grew apart.

#OctPoWriMo | Oct 12 – 17

I am one part of the whole of the entire universe, And I gaze up into myself and watch myself gaze back at me.

#OctPoWriMo | Oct 5 – 11

My second installment of poems for OctPoWriMo 2019.

OctPoWriMo | Oct 1st – Oct 4th

I’m participating in the month-long poetry writing challenge. Here’s what I have for the first week. #OctPoWriMo | Oct 1st – Oct 4th

photos on the wall containing living history

Living History

These historical figures hold a key that unlocks the mysteries of the past. They can help paint pictures that dive into the very heart of humanity.

Eyes Without A Face

Eyes Without A Face

Sometimes I find myself missing literature that I have not and probably will not ever read. I sit in the immaterialized section of reality hidden deep within my conscious to see the book of poems—forever lost—that I will never see.

Christmas Message

A Christmas Message From The Cat

With her wide eyes poking out from within the tree’s bent branches, she tells us that she is in charge and that we must celebrate the holidays her way with sparkly objects mistaken for cat toys scattered about the house. She knows that we will fix the tree once more and pet her again. In the back of my mind, I consider the engineering needed to mount the Christmas tree to the ceiling.

writer's mug

The Unused Mug

I refuse to use the grey mug sitting in the corner of the room. I glance over in its direction and watch it staring at me…

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