I struggle and search for just the right word, So many fall short and mean less than intended. A magical collection of letters written or heard, Given from the heart and never rescinded. I wasted so much time thinking more is better, Yet simplicity can be such a powerful presence. In my mind I build it letter by letter, To make sure I capture every ounce of its essence. Love is over-used and everyone says it, And want is...

I have grown tired of the process of competition, and judging from the paucity of readers and comments my work gets anymore, the process has grown tired of me. I have many authors on SS and Lush that I admire greatly and shall continue to read and comment as always. Some are friends. Some choose not to be. Sometime toward the end of my ninth year of age I started writing. My life was always a difficult one and those of yo...

The 1” high bright red numbers of the clock read 3:38am. Another night when the pillow feels like a cinderblock. I turned the TV off at midnight. My brain must be a complete catastrophe inside with all of the churning and endless clamor.  The small nightlight attached to my emergency flashlight plugged into the wall gives off just enough glow to let me distinguish the contents of the room. Which I’ve done thousands of tim...

There were good moments. There always are. Those luck of the draw blind date moments. Those longing for someone even though they are with your best friend moments. Those ‘accidental’ brushes of the hand when you think no one else will notice moments. Those rushing out the door and throwing your arms around their neck moments. Those kissing them because if you don’t you are going to lose them moments. Those heart stopping...

On and on the words do flow, A broken heart that will not heal. It doesn’t matter if she knows, If it isn’t the way that she feels. Sometimes it’s best to just move along, A one-sided love isn’t worth the telling. It makes no sense to sing the same old song, When it’s obvious she isn’t buying what you’re selling. There comes a time when the door needs to close, Waiting in vain is pathetic and sad. Nothing will change by e...

Here’s another crappy poem.. A few verses and words that no one heeds.. I guess this will fix ‘em and really show ‘em.. Or just be another shitty piece that no one reads.. Which lately it seems is usually the case.. There are some writers who can just drop a turd.. Then stand back and watch the chase.. Always being followed by the same old herd.. Puke on a page has become an art.. Grammatical smear in sentence and verse.....

How do you explain destiny? Random luck based on time and place? Universal chaos within mathematicalparameters? Providence? Or is it a bonding of life-forces inseparable by any other force of nature.  In order to believe in destiny you have to believe in the improbable. The unlikely. The law of infinite attraction. You have to allow that bad luck or good fortune or the pain of loneliness or the pleasures of love is part o...

My king-size bed is centered on the wall, directly beneath the window. It has a very hard mattress out of choice. The drapes are an odd shade of green. The bedspread and pillows are a deep maroon. There are two hanging reading lights over each side of the bed with a sort of buttercream glass shade. Each side of the bed also has an antique side table with two drawers that have a collection of odds and ends that usually get...

Growing up in the 50’s and 60’s, and that’s the 1950’s and 1960’s for you smartasses, the doors in most homes had keyholes. These keyholes were made to be operated by large bulky skeleton keys. Usually one key would open nearly every door, so if you got one it was best to keep it hidden as your passkey to untold secrets and fortunes. As you might imagine, these skeleton keys required a substantial opening to fit into and...

What is this crap I put myself through? Falling in love with pics that aren’t you. Damn little things, maybe 2 x 2? What the hell am I supposed to do? Beautiful face with long wavy hair. Eyes that say come here if you dare. All I can do is sit here and stare. I’m so weak, this just isn’t fair! Led to slaughter just like a lamb. I think I’m safe.. then wham! Bam! They lure me in from so many lands. They never seem to be fr...

I hung on the wall incomplete and forgotten. Collecting dust in a battered frame. My paint had long since faded, My past and my present always the same. Unnoticed I hung, As others walked by. With finer art around me, I never caught anyone’s eye. What was I? A draft at best, A sketch unfinished, Then left to rest? Not even straight, My frame hung aloof on a nail. No light ever found me, The dark added to my fail. Precious...

I’m that child. Born to him and her. Who grew too soon. Walked while others crawled. I’m that child. Who heard their words. And somehow knew. I’m that child. Whose pain came all too often. Who lived with rage. I’m that boy. Who dressed himself each morning. And then his siblings. Who had no role models. I’m that boy. Who fought in school. Who never had lunch money. Who was called raggedy by a teacher. I’m that boy. Who wa...

Old guys always start every story with “When I was a boy.” It’s a standard, sorta like “Once upon a time” or “Happily ever after.” It has been my experience that it causes one of two reactions. People will either listen intently for each pearl of wisdom.. or.. roll their eyes and whisper “fuck!! Not again!” While I never presume that my ramblings are akin to duffel bags filled with such pearls, I’ve learned to accept the...

As a young man I loved to play golf. I scuffed around the course. Strong. Wild. Took pride in hitting the ball farther than others. Still do. Yet it took the wisdom and humor of an old timer one day after playing a round of golf with me to put things into perspective. After slamming the ball all over creation and scrambling on every hole, I proudly set my clubs down next to his and waited for the awe to set in. I mean how...

Preople. Pretend people. Where do they come from? Who are they? Sometimes even they don’t know. Yet they consciously pretend to be who they aren’t. They lie about their age. They lie about where they are. Sometimes they even lie about their gender. Preople. Cutesy names and avatars are their facade. They catch your eye. Then they reel you in with deceit. The pics they post are with purpose. Flowers and candy and sunsets....