Pages tagged with Graphic Art

~graying & balding~ ~regretting & forgetting~ ~slowing going down~ ~sentimentally elemental~ ~we are overcome by chance thought~
~I’ve learned from near-death experiences that attempting to communicate & prepare to bid farewell to those we love & share our lives with is more difficult & painful by far than the physicality of dying itself~
~lipstick on the mirror~I love you red~I hate you black~ambulance on the lawn~cop cars & firetrucks~if they couldn’t save the breathers inside~how the hell could I~but I had to try~those boys took me down~until the woman inside cried my name~the priest told me don’t tell her~there...
A young lady named Honey from Philippines is making beautiful portraits on Banana's with pin or sharp instrument.
~head swaying back & forth~she drifted away~eyes wide open blank~arms lifting~body turning~whimsical child~tiny thing~otherwordly & beautiful~dancing the moment she learned to walk~to music in her spirit~from whence she came~lyrical in a language not of this sphere~
~sometimes roaming~learning secrets~developing habits~protective of my space in crowds~a lobo & a lamb chop~community possessions~legitimate assemblage~the questionable integrity of strangers all~
~we wake up like that~young in the room~unprotected~dragged out the womb~aware of scratching~under the bed~waiting in the closet~crawling in our head~we end up like that~older ‘n the moon~unforgiven~forgotten soon~ain’t no inbetween~the fresh & the dead~a foot outside momma~price ...
~I spent my time in the desert~1000 days~a place called california~crawling through the mess of me~away from my people~looking or the rest of me~scribbling on a steno pad~the 981st day I was eating breakfast at denny’s &…~
~the boy enjoyed vacations at grandpa’s ranch~sitting on the porch, his .22 rifle on his lap~crow in the corn~he raises the .22~drops it with a single shot~the old man comes running out~drags the boy to the garden~”look what you’ve done”~he cringes at the old man’s anger~...
I have never met a word I didn’t like. I started writing stuff in second grade near as I can remember. As soon as I was able to round up a few of those critters (words), I began the process of arranging them in pen sentences and paragraph corrals. That was fifty-five years ago. ...
I wrote Night Fires a while back. My youngest son, Zedidiah, handed off some of his writing to me. Night Shade is a good example of his writing and introspective nature. We will soon release a collection of poetry, our work, father and son. The voices of my children ring through m...
~baby boomer hell~coming of age upside out~downside in~where the hell did my kids go~when I’m trying to figure out where I put my framitz~find some other damned thing~forget what I was looking for in the first place~wondered if I’d ever see an alien~look in the mirror~there ya hav...
I was a couple of months in to the thirty-six months I’d spend in California with my new wife before returning to my children in Colorado. I began to count backward from a thousand days out. My brother, who spent twenty years in prison, advised me not to do that. A bad way to do ...
The puppy whined and Mary was both relieved and distressed. It was alive but bloody and crying. She rushed into the kitchen and returned presently with a bucket of warm water and clean towels from the bathroom.
~come flyin’ around the corner~ridin’ your bad-ass machine~there’s a government plan~an eighteen wheeler u-turning~you twist your head~to tell your Harley baby goodbye~white line~white linin’~ hundred dollar bill~never know what happened next~
~some nights I listen to my heart beat~I float on its rhythm downriver~imagine what should have been & somehow wasn’t~miss it anyway~make the voice of my mother with my spirit~talk to me that way~like a dervish~like a dancer~perfection gone awry~ogres making off with pieces of us~
The patron’s handsome Native American face was a study of agony, eyes slammed tightly shut, voices of the centuries howling through his mind. To have found his Yllai after all these decades in the hands of her raper was very nearly more than he could stand. A quick and painful act...
~the sink drip drips~the clock tick tocks~sounds deeper than blood~engrained like the smell of papa’s cigarettes & momma’s fear~he began regretting the future~quicker than forgetting the past~remembering fellow long riders &~
~here one minute~gone the next~my youngest son creates clone videos~snaps characters in with his fingers~amazing to watch his work on you tube~zoodious he calls himself~I have seen many people snap out~very few snap back~before we are aware we are…~
~I saw a bunch o’ citizens doing “the crawl” on a downtown street~it was skid-row when I was rockin’ & rollin’~now they call it lodo~cops erect chain-link barriers to protect the rich drunks~firemen spray their puke off the pavement~what the hell difference does it make who ...
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