Thoughts written down on digital paper. I am going thru the same thought patterns as 3 years ago. It is when you are willing to listen to yourself and be fearless that figuring out your next step becomes easy. 8220;You never know until you try.

A lover of international food, culture, and people. New Place, New Space. Hey, You Asked! Lunching in the DMV. There was an error in this gadget. Thursday, September 22, 2011. New Place, New Space. check me out at the new spot. Beans, Rice, Life 2. Thursday, September 16, 2010. A Taste of Cambodian Cuisine. Demaz Baker, a local chef and author of.

Waiting for the right time. Waiting for a ride in the dark.

Some poems and reflections on life. How can I tell you? I wrote this in response to a radio interview, where the interviewee talked about how little her Jewish parents would say about their experience in World War II. My father served at the end of the war in the New Zealand army. He was involved in the recovery and clean up after the fighting was over in Italy and Japan. But even so, he was very reluctant to talk about his experiences. How can I tell you.

Write the Vision, Make It Plain. Enjoy living, enjoy writing, enjoy my words spoken. Click on catagories to the right to view blog writings. Feed for comments on this post. The writ of byword smith.

I only remember the excruciating pain. The unforgettable scent of your cologne after a long embrace. I remember dark nights with that same song on repeat. I remember what it felt like to touch you. I remember listening to the sound of your heartbeat as I laid my head on your chest.

Badge of Havoc and NaPo 2013. Plaster, chill, rattle, drum, recede, scry,. Thread, web, know, sin, cry, creek. Bickering, asleep, floor, hear, breath, soft,. Cord, frayed, signal, bed, awake, separate,. Back then, just the sound. Of your voice was enough.

Beats, Boxing and Mayhem. Poem from the movie ATL. Not Mine But Still Hot! Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Except for the officer name and his rank. The cold feel of the steel. Remains no matter how long. How did i get here? .

Thursday, October 30, 2014. At this moment, my son is rolling around on the carpet in his onesie - fascinated with an empty bottle. A round cylinder of plastic with a hole on one end. He holds it up to examine it with wonder. Sticks his fingers in its mouth. Flips it again and again, marveling. Brings it close for a taste. Off on the next adventure with his sword.

We met at a bar. We met at a bar. When she saw me, she looked away, and I looked away when I saw her. When could we see each other again? If she had as.