Posts tagged “writing


Because I look at the world everyday and I would do anything- absolutely anything- to, just for a moment, experience the ecstasy of being the things that I see. To feel the rush of being the drop of water at the top of the fountain at the Point. To be light as an autumn leaf drifting through the cool breeze. To be as soft and inviting as my bed at home. To be as dark and powerful as the weather just before a storm hits. To be a whisper; or a scream. To be snow, lit beneath a street light. To be the light from the sun- going so much farther than I will ever go. To be a mirror- the ultimate form of people watching. To be the wind- telling birds to fly and making humans want to.

I often stand atop Mt. Washington at night and gaze at all of the city lights. I pretend each light is a human life. I watch as night goes- some go on and some go off. They are like man-made stars. I see their reflections in the river and it looks like the lights there are from another city; beneath us- keeping us afloat. I stand there for hours and tell myself that if I jump off right now, I won’t die. Halfway through the fall my body will shatter into a billion shards. The wind will catch my remains and I will be spread out until I become the city; until I become this sight- I want to sacrifice myself to it.

That is the most beautiful tragedy that is being human. I am trapped by my body and I want, with every fiber of my being, to be something else, yet only as me could I understand that beauty and have that longing. I will always know what it feels like to be these things more than they ever can, yet I will never stop wanting.


Won’t You Wrap the Night- Daily Prompt


Take her hand and

turn it over, kill it

as I reach up

to the light

dripping down like

wax from the ceiling;

burning- she dreamt of

wearing the stars

to her wedding.


Pull the cord

and hear the chord

resonate a billion-billion

 pale play-mates

down the street;

she hears them with

her eyes and cannot sleep.


Stretch me out,

morph me like play-dough,

I’ll run without breathing

This paper gown is too

heavy or maybe it’s the air.


But let me have it all

wrap it up so I can hold it

It will be soft and warm-

the skin of a lover-

and she and I will forget

our limitations and

our deadline.

This whole blog thing.

So, I’d like to start out by saying that I was never one of those people that thought that they would get into the whole blogging thing. When I think of blogging, the first thing that comes to mind is basically people just spilling their guts to the world- the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stuff that nobody gives a shit about. This is partially what has hindered me thus far from making a blog because, you know, who would really want to hear my unfiltered thoughts? I mean, come on, nobody is that bored, right?

However, my main reason for previously refraining from the whole blog scene (and I think that fellow writers would understand this) is that I have the bad tendency of becoming overly attached to my writing. I enter another world when I write and I selfishly want that world to be mine and only mine. Not to sound completely dramatic and totally cliché, but honestly when I allow someone to read what I’ve written I am inviting them into my world-and once they are there that opens up a whole mess of shit. They could poison my crops or kill all of my sheep or something…. metaphorically speaking of course…. apparently my world is a farm…. anyway, my point is that my writing is more than just a bit personal- it is me.

That being said, I’ve made a goal for myself for this coming year to get myself out there a bit as a writer and that’s how I’ve ended up on here. I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do with this blog- maybe I’ll put some poems up, maybe I’ll put a few short stories up and if I’m full of angst perhaps I will go on a rant about a topic that I find interesting. I am open to any and all suggestions at this point, throw me a bone.