honkycackle.blogspot.com
Lost Kite: December 2009
http://honkycackle.blogspot.com/2009_12_01_archive.html
This blog is simply a random mess of my journal, rants, poetry, personal thoughts and things I like.and unless noted, all my original writing (no copy without permission, s'il vous plait). I changed the name to Lost Kite from honkycackle because these days I feel more like the former than the latter. Picture- Lost Kite by Kvaga at deviantART. Thursday, December 10, 2009. Imagining what you look like in person. Sometimes I see a stranger,. In the coffee shop, or in the. Grocery store, and I think. I love ...
honkycackle.blogspot.com
Lost Kite: September 2011
http://honkycackle.blogspot.com/2011_09_01_archive.html
This blog is simply a random mess of my journal, rants, poetry, personal thoughts and things I like.and unless noted, all my original writing (no copy without permission, s'il vous plait). I changed the name to Lost Kite from honkycackle because these days I feel more like the former than the latter. Picture- Lost Kite by Kvaga at deviantART. Tuesday, September 27, 2011. No such thing as reason. When I want to reach. Man in a yellow cab. Leaving town all day long. Leaving me and her and. Or when we looked.
honkycackle.blogspot.com
Lost Kite: September 2010
http://honkycackle.blogspot.com/2010_09_01_archive.html
This blog is simply a random mess of my journal, rants, poetry, personal thoughts and things I like.and unless noted, all my original writing (no copy without permission, s'il vous plait). I changed the name to Lost Kite from honkycackle because these days I feel more like the former than the latter. Picture- Lost Kite by Kvaga at deviantART. Wednesday, September 15, 2010. I've been out of the gates for awhile now. Pushing towards something bigger than me. Bigger than my dreams, bigger than this belly.
honkycackle.blogspot.com
Lost Kite: no such thing as reason
http://honkycackle.blogspot.com/2011/09/no-such-thing-as-reason.html
This blog is simply a random mess of my journal, rants, poetry, personal thoughts and things I like.and unless noted, all my original writing (no copy without permission, s'il vous plait). I changed the name to Lost Kite from honkycackle because these days I feel more like the former than the latter. Picture- Lost Kite by Kvaga at deviantART. Tuesday, September 27, 2011. No such thing as reason. When I want to reach. Man in a yellow cab. Leaving town all day long. Leaving me and her and. Or when we looked.
patriciabyrnewrites.com
Writing Selection | Patricia Byrne
https://patriciabyrnewrites.com/selected-writings
Web Site Patricia Byrne Writer. 8216;Milk Bottles in Limerick’ in New Hibernia Review, Spring 2016. 8216;Women and the Achill Mission Colony’ in Irish Story. 8216;January Winds’ on RTE. Night of the Big Wind in Achill,. 8216;Controversial Mission’ in. S Irishwoman’s Diary. 8216;America to Galway’ in. Watching My Hands at Work. 8211; A Festschrift for Adrian Frazier. 8216;The Veiled Island Woman’ in. Unbound Press Literary Competition Anthology. From Scottish Book Trust. 8216;Irish Stage Poets’ in. Journa...
forgettingthetime.blogspot.com
forgetting the time: Weird
http://forgettingthetime.blogspot.com/2012/02/weird.html
Notes and reviews on life, writing, inspiration. And how to get lost in words. Saturday, 25 February 2012. Weird, people who don't think of me as weird, who like me just the way I am. Beautiful. Care-ful. Wierd is what we all are. Everybody, I think. 26 February 2012 at 08:35. 26 February 2012 at 22:47. I stumbled accross your blog a few days ago and when I read this post I found myself identifying with it. I notice the weird things that nobody else seems to even think about, too. 16 March 2012 at 15:12.
forgettingthetime.blogspot.com
forgetting the time: Venturing Out as a Poet
http://forgettingthetime.blogspot.com/2012/03/venturing-out-as-poet.html
Notes and reviews on life, writing, inspiration. And how to get lost in words. Thursday, 15 March 2012. Venturing Out as a Poet. I rarely do readings these days. I shy away from the, as reading does make me a little nervous, but recently had two lovely invitations to read and decided to say yes. So very soon, I will be reading at two events in Chorlton. I usually wander along to these events all on my lonesome, so any friendly faces will be most welcome. All good Annie - I bet youll be greatx. Science an...
motorgyre.wordpress.com
Dead letters | Write Now
https://motorgyre.wordpress.com/2009/12/29/dead-letters
Defeating my inner editor. You would be everywhere,. In every hidden face. I would have to hold myself. To know the truth. Of a turning stranger’s surprise. But that is gone. I knew you too well,. Seen too often,. Watched too many times. As you moved away. Knowing that I will know. If you cross my path. That if I do not see. It is not important now. So much I did not see. Now I stand,. Shelf-stooped and spine-scanning,. An addict’s restless gaze,. Seeing all and finding none. Or on your table,. You are c...
motorgyre.wordpress.com
War baby | Write Now
https://motorgyre.wordpress.com/2009/07/09/war-baby
Defeating my inner editor. A war baby by choice,. But not your ragged terrified. Road hugging, bombed, dirt faced. Not a many homed army brat,. With multiple schools of almost friends. I wanted war, technical seduction,. Cheered black and white tanks. Dust plumed and deadly. Rolling across the fields of nineteen forty. Long dead death dealers sitting straight,. Watched parades and charges,. Knew the enemy in his uniformed strength. And focussed fear and knew the attraction. Played it too,. Leave a Reply ...
wheniwax.blogspot.com
When I Wax: Last Loyalty Lost
http://wheniwax.blogspot.com/2012/05/last-loyalty-lost.html
Tuesday, May 01, 2012. I followed familiar footpaths. To find her this last time. Of the greatest of my signs. And the bruising of my shins. Of the fern beds in the pines. The sadist and the sins. Of the thirst for this elixir. And seduction on the wind. Of the shapes that still define her. All familiar, take me in. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). By K Gordon Tidball. Welcome to "When I Wax"- a place to escape the pedants and wax poetic, or even wax artistic. Festival of the Trees. Find Me A Bluebird.
