happy birthday Mom a happy day not to mourn but to celebrate your smile your laugh your hand with mine a silent h good & plenty memories cappuccino necco wafers good fortune to cherish us to have you to call… Read More ›
Writer
Beautiful Ruined
It’s happened before. Arrogance and fear combined to make humble pie. So I shouldn’t have been surprised when I locked my eyes on the first page of a book and immediately criticized and picked apart the author’s work. I chuckled… Read More ›
Memories Applied in a Dirt Lot
Like a camera out of focus, everything in front of me was just a little bit off. I pinched my eyes to temper the blur, to see that the world around me was, in fact, real. It was a moment… Read More ›
When Old Bridges Pass
The old bridge runs alongside the new. Like a shadow of my past crossings, it’s a stark reminder that nothing in this world is permanent. Piece by piece, they disassemble the steel, and each morning I glance over my right… Read More ›
Get to The Point
To say the hand-cranked mechanical pencil sharpener was the Cadillac of pencil sharpeners would be a huge understatement. During my school days, the painted metal sharpener was ever present, usually bolted into a long counter in the classroom, always with… Read More ›
The Sticks You Left Behind
They place sticks above me, one at a time. Lifeless twigs, dry and brittle like the suit they dressed me in. It’s my family, my friends. And you. They let gravity pull the sticks towards me. A subtle bundle of… Read More ›
Nobody Calls Me Nobody
“He was a nobody before he was a somebody,” a former NFL quarterback said, about Pat Tillman. “And he never forgot that, he carried it with him. That’s what made him so special.” Well intentioned words, I must say, that… Read More ›
I Start Voices in My Head
I hear voices. Audible crumbs that line the zigzagged paths in my head. Loud whispers fold into hushed thoughts, a disconnect bridged by a familiar tone. It builds into a phrase, like a breeze into wind, almost recognizable in a… Read More ›
High School Clocks Crawl
High School clocks crawl. That’s a fact. Perhaps it’s a stepping stone for the real world, where timepieces tend to run. For me, during my school days, the torturous pauses between the ticks were a direct correlation to my hunger… Read More ›
Autumn’s Fall
Leaves change. It’s a beautiful thing, and an appropriate phenomenon for an oft used metaphor. The notion of a warm green leaf transformed into a bright-orange symbol of a cooler, damper, Autumn, can’t help but make one think that change… Read More ›
eternal Domnation 