Shattering into a million glimmering shards,

the vase seemingly imploded just left of her head.

Yet, preceding the vase, the front window

performed a remarkably similar routine.

And yet before both of these events,

a crisp crack’s echo bounced around the streets.

Of course, all the above described events

occurred in such a quick procession,

they appeared nearly to be simultaneous.

It was the combination of the three that

produced such a shocking scare in the heart

of an elderly lady, snoozing in the recliner.

Suddenly, overwhelmed with surging adrenaline,

her heart violently seized up and struggled

vehemently to maintain its well practiced music.

Out in the yard, jaw hanging askew, eyes wide,

a young boy drops his small aluminum bat.

Knowing he was in the near absolute deepest

trouble fathomable, his heart was also flooded.

It being young and strong, this heart handled

the onslaught of adrenaline quite well.

Then, the boy notices through the open door,

the absence of his grandmother’s favorite vase.

At the exact same moment both hearts stop.

Unfortunately, for everyone held dearly within it,

only the boy’s again begins to pound out its beat.











Author's Notes/Comments: 

In one moment a lot can happen.

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Too Bad

I speak my mind.

Don't like it?


Too bad.


I bear you my soul.

Don't like it?


Too bad.


I believe that all beings and 

life forms are all the same, 

and different, 

at the same time, 

and that we are slowly losing 

our connection to this concept 

as a species, and it is destroying us.

Don't like it?


Too bad.


I believe there is a sanctity 

that lies within each individual,

every animal,

every life form.

Don't like it?


Too bad.


Don't like my

style of self-expression?

My authenticity?

My 'attitude'?

My disgust with closed-minded people?

My honesty?

My truth?


It's just plain too bad.

I love yours, and I hope 

one day we can meet halfway.



4:20 PM 6/28/2013











Author's Notes/Comments: 

"too bad"

Purging Dark

All I hear is hammers, nails

Strings from such an interface

Construction of the doorway

As I tear apart my transport.

And all I feel is anger

Directed to my core

At my rampant lacking

And at my loss of sight.

A wall of shining, cleansing white

That gathers dust to my left

Sans reflection, but it watches

While I steal a frequency.

And to this screen I speak,

Of all these senseless woes

While I'm losing money

Going sort of numb.

The pains of being pure of mind

Have faded since I've turned so sour

All good is gone, I devour

The dark that tends to cloud.

Fortune's glitter, passion's stain

The evening windows of a passing train

The feel of travel, the love of life

Things that I can't understand.

But now there is anger,

And lust for the fight

Not much else,

Not much to say.

So I try to purge,

In such ways I used to

And it isn't working,

And I'm not surprised.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Nothing's really gone well lately. Haven't written for some time. Don't really care for this new layout but, whatever.

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