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  • Poetry > Haiku
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    sometimes i wonder if i really exist and then i reappear...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I have moved a total of twenty-three times, and I have yet to leave anything of mine behind. I have resided in four separate states and ten towns (give or take), some as far away as Salmon, Idaho, and not once have I left anything that I owned among the abandoned toys, clothes, books, and many other...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    You must start with a point of origin. Some would say you should want big numbers for the beginning coordinates. Maybe, eventually, that would be suitable, but not to start with. Too unbalanced. I, forever the romantic idealist, prefer something more like: *Key in...0,0,0*. Not that it really ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I had a home on a jagged cliff where familiar crags eroded my feet as they bounded across it with what some would call “masochism” and rightfully so, if they had added “by reason of naiveté” beneath that cliff at the base of the precipice and to each side was a great gray ocea...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Murder them Eviscerate them Make them scream i'm screaming Scream yourself to death An...
  • Poetry > Song Lyrics
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    I want to feel that burning sand Take a trip down to the burning man To walk across the desert land Where I’ve never been, but always am I’d hitch a ride to Inspiration For a subliminal vacation Try my hand at aviation Then board a train outside the station To go where sandstorms rag...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Create unreality Sieze the moment Freeze it and own it Idolize your alter-ego Squeeze it and hold it There's too much crazy in here Negative energy Concealing secret identities Making the truth unclear In the land ruled by fear......
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to... hello? Heeeellloooooo??? Is there anybody out there? Oh. Good. I knew someone had to be listening. As I was saying, good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to our evening program. I know this week's episode is entitled &qu...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    11.9.07 Perhaps there is not one iota of truth in the title. To most anyone fortunate or unfortunate enough to cross my path, I am anything but dull. Corrupt, unnerving, tragic, even - but never dull. However, that does not alter the fact that I am dull - incredibly so - Especially by my ow...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Writing a letter to cell block eight Still trying to get the sad story straight Scribing pacifying lies "I'm sorry if this arrives too late" She asks me to brighten the gray To shed light on a jailbird's day Though I do not feel so inclined I send her drawings anyway She writes about our...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I hear your cries in the dead twilight I know you long for the dawn of night For all of you who fight I'm living proof I watch you groan and writhe in pain I pass you through torrential rain For each word dripping with disdain I'm living proof I'm living proof that we do fight I'm livin...
  • Reviews > All Reviews
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    PomoWorld (pomoworld.ning.com) is a social site that I like to call "myspace for intellectuals". While it does have a focus on postmodernism, even those who are not post-modernists can appreciate the eclecticism of discussion and members, as well as their "mission" which they define as: "to fully re...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    There is nothing I can say To take your hopelessness away There is nothing I can do That can change your will on cue There's no passage in my books That can fix your awkward looks There is no lipstick or blush That can win over your crush I have nothing pure or clean That can vanquish your ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Just when you think you're free There's more Chain and shackles Than before That pull and drag you To the floor Every time you open a single door Two slam shut to open nevermore While desperately trying to understand How to make your heart and your mind Walk hand in hand....
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    i used to be the quick one - and sharp as a tack Odd, isn't it, how kids can slip when no one bothers keeping track Now i could write a novel if i could move my hand i can't move a lot of things nor expect you to understand i used to be the smart one - tutoring above my class Its odd ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    You illuminate a space Just as your smile adorns your face And each halo-composing strand Falls perfectly into its place With one motion of your hand You call the moon into command Never abusing what you have Equality you understand And with your piercing copper eyes You see through pac...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    What a pity, look at me Alone and in poor company - A lethargic insomniac - A possible Opheliac In this hackneyed teen tragedy The actresses are simply me Each one of them plays their own bit Their performances are strictly sh*t So sick of this lame masquerade No will is left - f*ck the...
  • Reviews > TV show reviews
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    The HBO Series "In Treatment" is a wonderfully intelligent and intense program centering around a psychotherapist and his patients. Gabriel Byrne gives a superb performance as Paul Weston, a psychotherapist running a private practice. Paul has a myriad of clients, from brilliant adolescent girls, to...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    Perhaps there is not one iota of truth in the title. To most anyone fortunate or unfortunate enough to cross my path, I am anything but dull. Corrupt, unnerving, tragic, even - but never dull. However, that does not alter the fact that I am dull - incredibly so - Especially by my own standards...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The sound of leaves crunching beneath her feet echoed and re-echoed in her head, along with the raspy noise which she assumed was the sound of her breathing - there was no way to be certain. (Keep moving, keep moving...) She hadn't a clue as to why she run like that, or maybe she had, but it d...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    It was almost dusk. The sky glowed with brilliant pinks and oranges, bathing everything in golden light. Xavier and I were walking down the street, hands in our pockets. Xavier's coffee-colored hair caught the last rays of sun as it sank below the horizon. His tall silhouette stood stark against the...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    When darkness shrouds The world around In smoke that chokes And rot abounds I step outside Where streams are cried Where hopes take root And winds are sighed Its from this place I saw your face Reflected in A pool of grace Many a night I've sipped the light Shone from your star ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Flesh-eating pests gnawing at your brain Snuck in while you slept to avoid the rain With their buzzing, chewing cacaphony Its no wonder you're growling in pain I know you've bowed to bugs before And each species eats you to the core But exchange your infestation Known feeding ground's what ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I change stained panes with absent guile To suit each new required style It’s what I knew white light can do If it’s a rainbow I am too I’ll shine right through each different hue - But only for a little while Long ago, when I was green And hadn't yet stepped on the scene I wrung dry...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Lightning slices through stagnant air Women watch from rusted rocking chairs They tremble with each thunderous roar The weathers never been so fair Tears fall and pierce leathery skin From below and above cleanse without and within Vibrations escape from rigid lips As heart-strings are tune...

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