Tag Archives: Writing

The Writer

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2131181-the-writer.mp3]


Twisting her hair to a knot in the back,

She settles in to type; but what today?

Poetry, yet free flowing or with tact?

Shall she write eloquent or let words play?


Her lip in teeth caught as her thoughts wander

Through love’s past, present, possible future.

Her mind winding, past lessons she ponders.

Suddenly, inspired, words flow through her.


With furied clicking, tapping and ticking,

Something unfolds from her graceless fingers.

Her eyes glaze with pleasurous precision;

Words fall in place without hesitation,

As all those tales that in her heart linger,

Flood the screen with purity, remitting.


Each sense, all five, bring back that history,

Of love and life, sweetness and misery.

Unrestrained, she pounds the keys rhythmically.

Again this night, she lets her soul flow free.


The Muse

[audio https://audioboo.fm/boos/2108045-the-muse.mp3]


She patiently watches with eyes of coal.

Peering over his shoulder, through his soul.

She patiently watches him boiling gold;

His words to her, slowly crafted, unfold.


An ethereal whisp is all she is.

A whisper on the wind, a dream of bliss,

A touch of love and broken promises,

Memories and longings that burn to kiss.


The muse’s lips softly curl in a smile,

Watching her reason for being beguile.

His aesthetic prose, his constructed style-

Pouring forth, pulsing, flowing like the Nile.


At the end of the day, work put away,

So too is she, she can no longer stay.

For a Poet’s heart will too often stray,

And a Muse’s is too quick to give way.


Into another night, lost, unconsoled,

Left to want and wander in mute remiss.

Searching for someone, aching to inspire;

A true bond which will not lead to dismay.



sigh. it’s not perfect, but i’m done with it..

rewrote the first line/last stanza, will correct recording later..

Lately – Journal

So I’ve been going through some shit lately and it has had a massive effect on my writing. Inasmuch that I can’t seem to do much of that. I’ve got a lot of negativity built up, and feel like I have no resource to get it out. Yeah, you’d think writing would be the perfect resource, right? Maybe I just don’t want to hurt anyone with what I have to say. Maybe I’m sick of writing about hurt and not being good enough and crap like that.




I recently went through a “breakup” of sorts. No, he wasn’t really mine, but I thought we meant something to each other. He sure as hell meant something to me. And while I won’t guess at his true feelings, his reasons led him to actions that left me feeling like I was of such little consequence that I may as well not even exist. To compound the issue, we followed each other on Twitter, so I can look forward to the constant reminders that, yeah, I truly did not mean much. Twitter is … Twitter is great, but in this situation, it has been nothing but a hindrance to true intimacy. You can read too much, or not enough, into certain comments. And I am not in a place to make guesses.  Anyway, yes, I am emotionally wrecked and reeling right now.


In life, my house has sprung a leak. Those who do follow me on Twitter might have noticed an increase in tweets about rain this past week or so. It has been a lovely Spring, with calming rains. Not so calming when that rain is pouring down the walls of your home, however. Definitely not so calming when the owner of the house you are renting is doing nothing whatsoever about it. And when the forecast is calling for days of the stuff. I am feeling utterly defeated about that. It’s time, perhaps, to look for a different place, but that comes with its own set of complications and frustrations…


At least the water is finally running clear! For about two days we were dealing with brown water running through all the taps. Took them that long to realize they were flushing the wrong pipes. Honestly, I’m still a bit skeptical about drinking it, but then, I’ve always been a tad paranoid. And I have trust issues.


Also had a bit of a falling-out with one of my only good friends this week. We are both emotional people, and with the places where we both are, can tend to react to each other in not the best ways. It’s definitely led to a bit of a drift from where we once were. I don’t think that distance will soon be closed. And maybe it shouldn’t be.


He did help me realize some things about myself and how I see people that I hope will help me in the future. I’ve spent so much time either on my own, not talking with anyone, or in close relationships where that sad fool was the only one I opened up to. That places a lot on one person’s shoulders. But I am just not good with casual friendships and relationships. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but people do tend to get attached to me quite quickly. And on those occasions I get attached, well, nothing good comes from either situation. So I’m extremely guarded. I need to find a balance, however. Otherwise I’m going to keep breaking myself and those that I care for over and over.


To end this journal session on a happy note – I am expecting my new Chromebook today. Ponied up $150 for a factory refurbished model. Fingers crossed, I will not be cussing it out daily for stalling or crashing like I do with this baby. I actually considered posting an Indigogo campaign to raise money to buy a shiny new Samsung laptop – they are so pretty – but came to the conclusion that that would be beyond selfish of me. Perhaps later this year, if life stops kicking my ass all over the place, I can settle down with a new mean machine. Sorry, L, it will be a PC. 😉


Love you guys, thanks for reading. Maybe now that I’ve gotten some of that out, I can get back to writing pretty things. ❤



When one’s words take on a life of their own
From fingers, mind and tongue birthed to the wind
Whether in brief poem or lengthy tome
They fly free searching for hearts to live in

Those words travel to places you’ve not been
Excursions to the farthest flung reaches
Across deepest oceans, through time they swim
Touching new eyes, new voices, new features

For hearts captured by them, love increases
For minds enthralled, they’re taken in by craft
For eyes that crave what lessons each teaches
For broken souls looking to them to graft

The words you bring to life are powerful
Of this, I entreat, be always mindful


Written as a Spenserian sonnet. For #sonnetsunday on Twitter.

His Broken Presence

It had always been that look in his eyes she was drawn to. There was a fire, a hunger that she’d never seen elsewhere. And it captivated her so, when he set that look upon her.

The weight of the years hung on him like chains. Maybe he’d never been the carefree boy she imagined sometimes. Laughing and running wild, bringing home the kind of critters that would make his mother grimace as she pointed out the door. Had that woman kissed his scraped knees when he tripped on broken concrete? Had he been the boy to climb high and taunt those less brave?

She found herself wondering of his life. Far too often. His presence had invaded every part of her mind and heart. And all she wished was that he would stay there.

But he was never hers to love. This sweet man who she’d come to love more with every meeting would never hold her and spin her around in joy. He would not bring his fears to her in the night, so she could comfort and console him. Even the barest of touches was denied her. Those small touches she longed for the most: the feel of his hand around hers, her fingers delicately stroking his cheek. The briefest kiss with smiling lips.

She took comfort where she could. In making those lips curl ever so slightly. In bringing a spark to those deep haunted eyes. She would love him, honestly and truly. Until his use for her no longer remained. Sometimes, she longed for that end as much as she longed for him. To be broken by his hands would sear him into her heart forever, and she would bear that pain with a gritted smile.

Till then, she let his gaze roam, as she never did with anyone else. She would let him take her in. She would not cringe away from him. All she knew of him that could hurt her, she welcomed. She basked in him. In his his broken presence, she felt momentarily whole. And for that she would endure it all.

My Fucking Words

In all honesty, my heart is kinda broken tonight. I can’t even write. I want to tear up every word that spills from my fingers. Oh hell, I even hate my words tonight. I want to shred them, make THEM bleed for ME. Crush them, stomp them, punch them, kill every last fucking one. I want to slit the throats of my words tonight. Because they all betray me and leave me so bare, all my hurt showing. And I just want to bury that inside.

But my goddamn words won’t let me, angry little shits that they are. All they want to do is tell on me. That I’m in pain, that I’m angry. That I’m bitter and worthless and stupid and just fucking unlovable. That I hate and crave. That I want to die and live and fly and fall and lay beside you and just be… That my heart is jealous of what I’ll never have. Fuck, I’d cut off my fingers if that would make them stop!

I shouldn’t post this. I know I sound crazy. Well, fuck it. I am.

I know I’ll recover. A little more wary, a little more weary. And probably with all fingers intact. Maybe. But tonight, yes, I do want to scream, and sob, and dig my nails into anything and everything. I want to punch and stab and … Who am I kidding… I’ll get drunk and play video games, crying, till I fall asleep. That seems to be my fallback position.

I’ll try to drown out my words tonight. Tonight, they hate me, and I hate them back.

Twitter 2-10-14

A few of the things I’ve written today. If you don’t follow me on Twitter, you should. Right now, it’s where I do my best writing. 🙂
I can’t help but wonder
If love is worth it
Hearts ripped open, torn asunder.
Why do we take that risk?
For moments like this?

Love hurts.

Love can be
such a tenuous thing
And will break
With an audible
If not bound over and over
Steel threads twining
Ever binding

How is one
As broken as I
As shattered and fucked up
Supposed to deal
Supposed to heal
With all this mire and muck?

I always hope it’s not
As bad as it seems
Though the darkest thoughts
Haunt my dreams

Daydreams aren’t always good.

You’ve broken my spell
And my walls fell
I invited you in,
Take what you will
I’ll love you still
Through the end of me

Antiseptic hospitals
Cabs to call.

Medicine that makes it worse
That’s the curse.

The gauntlet

Someone else take it? …

Tonight has been tough,
But through it I’ll rough.
I will grin
And bear it
With you I would ride
Every tide.
I love you –
You’re worth it.

I’ll never understand
How anyone can
So brutally
And with a clear plan
Destroy their fellow man

I sing songs to myself
My own personal wealth
That I would share with you.
Whoever you are, however far
Let me sing to you, long and true

Wish I knew how to heal you
Wish I knew just what to do
To mend your heart
Raise you from the dark
You deserve the light, it’s true.

Dreams dashed, hearts crashed
Everything falls apart
But even dreams can be mended
Even a broken heart

I have to believe

With duct tape and spit
With shear will and grit
With force if I must
And a thousand years of dust and rust

I’ll get your gears grinding…

Take my hand
I have a plan
Let’s run away together
Escape this life
Leave beyond strife
The circus sounds much better

I’ll be a knife thrower
You could tame the kitties.

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