Mostly philosophical musings after religion and politics. Persuades the hunt for every day;. And he who wallows in the stream. Will live a life as watered dream. But, I am grounded by desire. And bloom eternal for the fire. Yesterday, we breathed the softest pains. My child, she wept near unseen stains.

Primarily for poetry and illustrations. Thursday, March 8, 2018. A 55 for JAJ after a long absence. Piano-forte, does it matter? And the keys push back. The keys hold the power. In the center lies the music, that sweet spot - freedom. 169; Gay Reiser Cannnon - 3-8-18. Monday, April 10, 2017. When Time Stops and Nothing Breathes. Near the fence, as the. Tuesday, April 5, 2016.

Maybe it was the work. To get milk down the street. Maybe it was the exposure. They swore it was safe. On Navy ships, valiant,. Maybe it was the agent orange. Uncle Sam admits now, oops. Maybe it was the 40 years of nicotine. The 20 years of whiskey. To function, to forget. Both fought, both defeated.

169; Cat Hill 2012. Open link night hosted by Grace. Thursday, 14 March 2013. 169; Cat Hill 2012. Form for all prompt to write a cinquain. This gave me an opportunity to write about one of my favourite musicians, Amanda Palmer. Tuesday, 19 February 2013. The noise so sudden and shocking.

This letting of words is my treatment. it pulls all the toxins from my mind, body, and soul. My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,. Like the Feathers of an Arrow. But postings here will be limited. Sunday, July 6, 2014. Another One Bites the Dust. Thursday, March 20, 2014.

Nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands. OR SCREAM IN ALL CAPS. Or if you need a prompt you can check out one of the past prompts, like the Shadorma. The bar is open just for you.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014. I wanted to let the blogging world know that Galen passed away this morning. He was doing wonderfully the last time we spoke. I know he would want me to update his blog as that was his first thought when he was ill last time. He was always thinking of you all.

If I was a rose and you had choice,. Would you pick me, pluck me down from the tree? Would you hold me soft in the palm of your hand,. Hold my blush to the rose of your cheek? My mouth is a rosebud waiting for kisses;. My heart is in blossom pulsating for you. Please will you choose me; please love me.