Table of Contents
Most Recent Posts
- Oh, the places a writer’s mind will go!
- Writers: Watch Your Headlines
- The Immune System’s Role in Longevity
- Lord Vayne – Chapter 4
- Romanian research: What’s in a name?
- Lord Vayne – Chapter 3
- Romanian Research – Vampires
- Lord Vayne – Chapter 2
- Romanian research – Owls
- I’ve joined Web Serial Writing Month
"If you don't inspire, you expire."
"It is a rare goal that has only one path."
"Life is too short for uncomfortable clothes!"
"Isn't it interesting how we often fight who we truly are, what we truly want and that which we truly deserve?"
"The more you appreciate, the more you have to appreciate."
"I know, therefore I am."
"Today is wonderful because I've chosen to see it that way."
Tag Archives: 1984
This poem was written in 1983, inspired by my senior ring, which had a blue spinal stone because my favorite color is blue. It was published in the Spring 1984 issue of Metanoia, the Montgomery High School creative writing magazine. … Continue reading
Here’s a limerick I wrote during the 1984/1985 school year that was inspired by a pen. The pen is a remarkable thing, you know. It writes with such an easy flow. The colours it comes in are endless. The things … Continue reading
My cat D.B. (short for Dust Ball) and I were so close it was like he was my familiar. He seemed to know when I needed him near. He’d recognize my car and come running home. He was a great … Continue reading
Written during the 1984/1985 school year. I’m falling! Falling slowly to the ground. Drifting I’m drifting on a breath of air Softly, I’ve landed on a soft, green surface. I’m not afraid, Anymore.
Written in 1984. Love lost. Love gained. It’s all a matter of time. Friends come. Friends go. There is always more. Nothing is Forever. Except the one Self. You always will be you, though the rest may go. Others will … Continue reading
Written in 1984, this is another expression of my grief of losing my grandmother. Loss. A missing piece of the puzzle. A knot in the throat. A Demon in the gut. An unfulfilled need. A missing. A not there. A … Continue reading
This was written May 18, 1984. I stand alone, as I always will. Friends come and go, but all the while I stand alone. Just a molecule of air, am I, tossed about by the wind. I see, and know, … Continue reading