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Lines on a page...

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Tuesday, August 11, 2015. In the end…. Is faith your divining rod. When faith is only relative to experience. Is belief your faith. And by what gauge do you measure its size. Is trust your peace. Or have you been broken beyond repair. Is peace a thing. That can ever be achieved. You only consume some portion. Of what they tell you.

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Lines on a page... | scrawledonapage.blogspot.com Reviews

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Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Tuesday, August 11, 2015. In the end…. Is faith your divining rod. When faith is only relative to experience. Is belief your faith. And by what gauge do you measure its size. Is trust your peace. Or have you been broken beyond repair. Is peace a thing. That can ever be achieved. You only consume some portion. Of what they tell you.

<META> KEYWORDS

1 what

2 nothing truly fills

3 or feeds you

4 starving you are

5 regurgitated facts

6 and walking away

7 the bitter taste

8 continues to burn

9 driving you on

10 sweet and savory

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what,nothing truly fills,or feeds you,starving you are,regurgitated facts,and walking away,the bitter taste,continues to burn,driving you on,sweet and savory,perhaps even sustenance,licking your lips,aching to taste,something tangible,not faith,not belief

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Lines on a page... | scrawledonapage.blogspot.com Reviews

https://scrawledonapage.blogspot.com

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Tuesday, August 11, 2015. In the end…. Is faith your divining rod. When faith is only relative to experience. Is belief your faith. And by what gauge do you measure its size. Is trust your peace. Or have you been broken beyond repair. Is peace a thing. That can ever be achieved. You only consume some portion. Of what they tell you.

INTERNAL PAGES

scrawledonapage.blogspot.com

1

Lines on a page...: Surviving Moments

http://www.scrawledonapage.blogspot.com/2014/03/surviving-moments.html

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Friday, March 21, 2014. Staring hard into corners. The target just too close. The hum now a chainsaw. As the tremors begin again. The flow of air in the throat. A heart beating far too fast. The brain is caught in motion. This is how it begins. To simply make it end. Into and out of the lungs. Beyond the only thing you can hear.

2

Lines on a page...: September 2013

http://www.scrawledonapage.blogspot.com/2013_09_01_archive.html

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Tuesday, September 24, 2013. It would seem to me that this is the time. While wrapped in the sinewy vines. Tangled in the intricate web. Of emotions that are suffocatingly loud. It would seem that these are the moments. When the words would trickle and fall. Down, over and upon me. As if there were no end to the way. To take the prove...

3

Lines on a page...: October 2013

http://www.scrawledonapage.blogspot.com/2013_10_01_archive.html

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Thursday, October 24, 2013. There is no shadow. There are no words. Left as evidence on a page. There is no quiet. No place for my soul. There is no silence. To hear the beat of my heart. Days filled with chaos. From before the day’s dawn. End in utter exhaustion. Digesting thought pushed aside. In the hope of chasing sleep. No expres...

4

Lines on a page...: November 2013

http://www.scrawledonapage.blogspot.com/2013_11_01_archive.html

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Sunday, November 24, 2013. You make me ache. A fine specimen of woman. Chiseled and making me hard. I want with a fierce desire. I want without guilt or shame. I know it might seem shallow. But you know the depth of the ache. You feed me pieces, traces. Knowing the fire that stirs. For that I thank you. With a need that must be heard.

5

Lines on a page...: through this day

http://www.scrawledonapage.blogspot.com/2015/06/through-this-day.html

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Thursday, June 11, 2015. Reaching deep into this quiet. As the day around me screams. Listening hard for the sound of you. The breath, the beating heart. Long and much too far. The need, the want, the ache. I know that you are with me. Connected through woven webs. Yet today I feel trapped. Dangling by a thread. I am not myself today.

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eusebeiaphilos.blogspot.com

Eusebeia Philos: Complexity

http://eusebeiaphilos.blogspot.com/2013/06/complexity.html

Other worlds exist beneath the surface of my assumptions. Thursday, June 13, 2013. Creates tasks harder to complete. Has always been my tendency. If fills, consumes - my life replete. With its stress, and no way to cheat. 169;Eusebeia Philos 2013. A rondelet written for dVerse Poets. Form For All The Rondelet. June 13, 2013 at 6:29 PM. No way to cheat, thats for sure.great job with the prompt. June 13, 2013 at 7:12 PM. Hey Andrea. Hah. Cheating increases the complexity. Thanks so much. Have a good week.

bonniejtoomey.com

siblings playing | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/siblings-playing

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. Tag Archives: siblings playing. May 13, 2015. We unearth old bottles, the unbroken one. Our treasure – suddenly bees bubble up. Bursting behind us as we fly out of the woods. Elbows and knees pump,. Ramparts of open air can’t hold back the picadors. We said it must’ve been your flaxen hair,. Flashing like a matador’s cape. Dad scoops mud, smooth and cool. In his mason-rough hands. He hums low, soothes your stinging welts,.

bonniejtoomey.com

child and parent and devices | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/child-and-parent-and-devices

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help. On Old grey friend. On Old grey friend. On Bottle Dump Find. On Bottle Dump Find. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 627 other followers. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

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kids and cell phones | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/kids-and-cell-phones

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help. On Old grey friend. On Old grey friend. On Bottle Dump Find. On Bottle Dump Find. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 627 other followers. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

bonniejtoomey.com

electronic devices and parenting | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/electronic-devices-and-parenting

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help. On Old grey friend. On Old grey friend. On Bottle Dump Find. On Bottle Dump Find. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 627 other followers. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

eusebeiaphilos.blogspot.com

Eusebeia Philos: American Sentences

http://eusebeiaphilos.blogspot.com/p/american-sentences.html

Other worlds exist beneath the surface of my assumptions. Ethereal ideas float far above our muddy experience. For a moment, a crazy moment, my world spun back on its axis. Truths dreamt through the night, denied by accusation of morning's first light. Deepest thoughts when no one is here, this isolation - my confessor. The unexpected does not surprise me, since it happens so often. Deep in a flashback, adrift, I returned home as the song ended. Angels are building an addition behind for extra guests.

eusebeiaphilos.blogspot.com

Eusebeia Philos: Wall

http://eusebeiaphilos.blogspot.com/2014/10/wall.html

Other worlds exist beneath the surface of my assumptions. Saturday, October 25, 2014. We've all climbed that wall. To see a different madness. Mine is so ordinary. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Some of my poems have been included in:. Vol2,3,4,5. Tanka Anthology Vol.2, 4. NPR Tell Me More. Muses and Metaphor Series. A Journal of World Tanka. 65279; Early on you taught me, remember. Your hand, butter biscuit warm reached out to feel my shadow until my face. Coming back by leaving. Complexity ...

bonniejtoomey.com

discovery | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/discovery

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. May 13, 2015. We unearth old bottles, the unbroken one. Our treasure – suddenly bees bubble up. Bursting behind us as we fly out of the woods. Elbows and knees pump,. Ramparts of open air can’t hold back the picadors. We said it must’ve been your flaxen hair,. Flashing like a matador’s cape. Dad scoops mud, smooth and cool. In his mason-rough hands. He hums low, soothes your stinging welts,. Raises an eyebrow at me. On Bottle...

bonniejtoomey.com

Uncategorized | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/category/uncategorized

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. May 24, 2015. My old friend makes another visit to my place. She weaves a new guide wire to her web. It catches the morning light. In tensile, tightrope fashion,. Attached under a cedar clapboard –. A suspension bridge from her dwelling to mine. Certainly she sees me, even through. The long window as together we work:. Now she patiently waits. I create lines with a pen,. The click of a keyboard, pause to consider –. Share on ...

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technolgy | bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher

https://bonniejtoomey.com/tag/technolgy

Bonnie j toomey writer poet teacher. So, You Want to Write? A room of your own. It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help. On Old grey friend. On Old grey friend. On Bottle Dump Find. On Bottle Dump Find. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Join 627 other followers. Follow Blog via Email. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

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Scrawled in Wax | WHERE MODERN THINGS MELT INTO OTHER MODERN THINGS

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Lines on a page...

Lines on a page. A journal of sorts through the story of a broken heart, a life forever changed, and perhaps the way I found myself again.only the words will tell the tale. Tuesday, August 11, 2015. In the end…. Is faith your divining rod. When faith is only relative to experience. Is belief your faith. And by what gauge do you measure its size. Is trust your peace. Or have you been broken beyond repair. Is peace a thing. That can ever be achieved. You only consume some portion. Of what they tell you.

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Welcome to the portfolio of Neil Smith. When I teamed up with my brother and fellow artist Ian smith. To create an entry for Polycount. 8216;s “The Escape” challenge, we knew we wanted to make something fun, quirky and a little different from what we had done before. Thus Sushi Run was born. The competition rules were simple; we had 10 weeks to create a depiction of an escape in a real time engine of our choosing. The winners were then decided by public vote. July 26, 2015. July 27, 2015.

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