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Wordcarving: April 2009
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Wednesday, April 22, 2009. If you should give a man a match,. You warm him for perhaps a day;. But give that man a stake. And give him that same match,. He’ll warm us all for the rest of his life. Wednesday, April 22, 2009. Links to this post. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). What's there to know? View my complete profile. A Coven of One. A Half Life of One. Carla Nayland Historical Fiction. Common Ties Story Blog. Country Don't Mean Dumb. Double-Tongued Word Wrester Dictionary. Mutley the Dog's Day Out.
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Wordcarving: February 2008
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Thursday, February 28, 2008. Of layered, mildly. Road, braying,. For a long, cold. The street in light,. To grutch in more. Left, to watch,. To point my face. Into the wind,. Thursday, February 28, 2008. Links to this post. Sunday, February 17, 2008. I saw them on the platform,. A mother and her son;. He was in his uniform,. She in blue homespun. We were crowded close enough. That I couldn’t help but hear;. He was acting cool and tough,. But she could see his fear. And do the things you must. 8220;I love...
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Wordcarving: March 2008
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Wednesday, March 26, 2008. Driving home in icy dark,. He flew his silver gray Tercel. Through the wilds of Echo Park. Helming starship Cutty Sark,. He navigated rather well,. Driving home in icy dark. By day, the evidence was stark:. His tracks were straight and parallel. Through the wilds of Echo Park. Two old oaks are shy some bark,. But it’s impossible to tell,. Driving home in icy dark. Through the wilds of Echo Park. Wednesday, March 26, 2008. Links to this post. Wednesday, March 12, 2008. And even ...
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Wordcarving: January 2008
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Sunday, January 27, 2008. A Hope In Hell. Were there Hell, and were it built. With graded rings of measured fire. Precisely tuned to sinners’ guilt,. Surely there would be a gyre. Just for those who trot about. With Jesus on their bloodless lips,. Who tell the poor to do without,. The mad to get a proper grip,. Who wish the ill and crippled well,. Pose their own prosperity. As proof that virtue pays. Hell? A snowball’s chance. But we’ll see. Sunday, January 27, 2008. Links to this post. Links to this post.
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Wordcarving: November 2007
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Friday, November 30, 2007. We couldn’t live without them, lies,. It’s difficult to see. How we’d meet each other’s eyes. Our lives are lies disguised by v. Do Aunties really have to know. The strict proportions of their derrieres? Can’t we let our bosses glow. At how we tremble, how we care? Of course they don’t. Of course we can. This is life, not Sunday school;. If Daddy isn’t Superman,. To tell him so is merely cruel. And if your war is going wrong,. Why get the people all upset? Links to this post.
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Wordcarving: Notes
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Monday, June 16, 2008. Subject 3348 Day 1. Subject escorted to Interrogation Unit. By standard Intake Unit escort squad,. Locomoting under own power. Full shackle set. Appears healthy,. Approximately thirty years old. States he’s been in custody one day,. Doesn’t know why he’s been arrested. Manner slightly apprehensive, wary. Relaxes a bit with leg shackles removed. Seated posture is erect, alert, tense. Subject states he is innocent of any crime. English is fairly good. Middle class? Subject states he ...
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Wordcarving: April 2008
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Sunday, April 13, 2008. For Tom it all began, as trouble may,. At school, or on the corner near school. Although he’d never been one to disobey,. One morning Tom defiled the rule:. He let a thought crackle through his head. It ravished him. Out of that small spark. A small sunrise flared and spread. In one mad moment from the dark,. Sent a blue flood of kilowatts. Through his every synapse, a holy light. His naïve neurons never quite forgot. He shambled off to class, confused, contrite,. Wearing the look...
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Wordcarving: The Thinking Life
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Sunday, April 13, 2008. For Tom it all began, as trouble may,. At school, or on the corner near school. Although he’d never been one to disobey,. One morning Tom defiled the rule:. He let a thought crackle through his head. It ravished him. Out of that small spark. A small sunrise flared and spread. In one mad moment from the dark,. Sent a blue flood of kilowatts. Through his every synapse, a holy light. His naïve neurons never quite forgot. He shambled off to class, confused, contrite,. Wearing the look...
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Wordcarving: May 2008
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Saturday, May 31, 2008. They’ll let you down, people will,. Even those who never should,. The ones you trust the most, until. They measure out the wormwood. They’ll break your heart, break the shards,. Grind the detritus to dust;. They’ll leave you nothing but your scars,. But you’ll go on, because you must. Inch by bitter inch, you’ll heal. Dawn will break; you’ll smile a smile. Tempered by your long ordeal. This may, however, take awhile. Then they’ll have another go,. Nor will it help you much to know.
