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Continue reading →: Saving Place
Like a book mark, a fallen tree. I heard the echo threreof and fell too, marking the place in which I left off like so many other pages cleft in the forest. Tell me again why these memories gather moss, bear termite bits, and sit like cairns in conversations.…
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Continue reading →: No Passing Zone
I’ll pass on the passion, stay in the lane, between lines, and read road signs. Droning on, highway hypnosis, staring the horizon down. Poor eyes on. Even the rumble strips me of desire, might I retire with treads worn thin. Jesus take the wheel… I’m not kidding. Let’s go for…
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Continue reading →: Proprioception
If my heart is in the right place its ligaments aren’t overextended. I find myself right where I should be… in the middle of otherness, the Thou super-suspended yet at the end range of this core. Nearer to Thee oh God is the lost and found of me.
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Continue reading →: Mourning Joe
I poured clouds in my coffee, Not to shade the cream, But to brighten the cocoa. The bitter bite of sips edges shaved with cream, Sweet swill of caffeine. “Hey Joe, what you going to do With that mug in your hand?” “Just one shot of dairy.” …
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Continue reading →: Sycophantic Haiku
I pull up my sycophants one leg at a time making sure who’s who sees me
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Continue reading →: Ambiguous Intention
I was going to be grateful, I really was. I breathed into a new day, And got distracted By the bacon and its applause, By the smell wending to my Nose while the eggs cuddled In its campfire grease. Then I looked away At the bird perched across The field…
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Continue reading →: Sunday Psalm
Unfold my arms, Relax these tight shoulders. Come, this wide-eyed morning And lay these hesitancies on the dew. Soak them mercifully, and grace These fists in their clenched resistance. Palms up, lifeline exposed In vulnerable sweat. Break upon my heart Like the broken light, Shards…
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Continue reading →: Toilet Paper. Three Sheets to the Wind.
Originally posted on Gerald the Writer: Toilet paper. That was the first thought that rolled across my mind this morning. Then I tore off the sheet and got out of bed. Toilet paper? Would it be over the top to write about it? It was stuck in the wrinkles of…
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Continue reading →: Zip-tied or slipped tide. (Sorry, I didn’t know what to title this one.)
My eyes welled up yesterday. I felt hijacked by a compassion stored in the fruit cellar of my heart. A nice surprise. Over the last few years of my life I’ve been doing some soul shifting. That’s right, soul shifting, not soul surfing, or even soul shaping. Shift happens. Well…not…
Gerald the Writer 