Miscellaneous Writings and Musings


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(Novel and Short Stories)

Steal Tomorrow

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Murder, Mystery, First Love, and the End of the World

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Out of Synch

Locked into identity:

Who knew such a little thing
could be so integral,
and its absence
color things sour,
tint everything gray,
and tip the world

(seams showing)
nothing fits together

Thinking avails us nothing,
for there are no answers here,
only a strange unmapped world
and a self
no longer synchronized:
out of synch
out of kilter
out of mind

If I can't understand
the little blasted bits
around me,
I have no chance
of putting it back together
(All the king's horses and all the king's men.)
and my only hope
is time's tincture:
trickling into the abyss
of a cubist artwork life
and unmemory.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl.


Old Egg said...

How well this writing echoes the mind bending cubists paintings. How often we wish for unmemory but it is such an elusive gift that plays with our minds and will stab us in the heart.

December 29, 2013 at 6:23 PM
Sabra Bowers said...

I think this is a great little poem. Love the one word lines.

December 29, 2013 at 6:34 PM
Unknown said...

Reading this a second time,you created perfectly the feeling of standing in front of a cubist art work trying to grasp some meaning!

December 30, 2013 at 5:08 AM
Jae Rose said...

It is chaffing when the world is so disjointed..raw..grey..and if only there was simple answer to put it all back together again..slow drips..painful though they may be are probably the only way..best wishes for 2014...

December 30, 2013 at 5:55 AM
humbird said...

Memory can be healed...Best for New Year!

December 30, 2013 at 11:55 AM
Alice Audrey said...

Sounds like me when I tried to quit writing.

December 30, 2013 at 10:20 PM

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