Death gleefully hugged her only years ago.
I can remember the existence of my mom.
I remember I loved her.
I remember the way she skipped out
of a restaurant just to give people
to talk about.
I can remember the fights.
I remember my mother
firing bullets from her teeth
for my teen-aged crimes.
I can remember the music.
I sung her favorite songs,
and she would dance with
I can remember her hospital shroud.
I remember my daughter
was too young to
I can remember losing her
in the way a son knows his mother
after he has grown up and had a child
of his own.
I remember hellfire anger.
I screamed at the night sky
craving for it to open
and let her escape.
I can remember time
twisting sorrow’s blade.
I can remember sitting
with her purse cradled,
staring at the words
of a poem I wrote
at the age of eight,
never knowing she kept it,
never knowing where
it had journeyed.
“Love is like a rose,
covered in pain…”
I can remember tears.
You know. I turned 40 almost 5 hours ago. I’d love to be able to write something profound. My 40 years of experience had to create some kind of grand view of life, right? Not really. Things are much the way they were when I was a “young’un.”
I still need to respect my elders, there’s just less of them.
I remember doing terribly unintelligent and sophomoric things when a large group of us got together. It still happens. The name just changed from “clique” or “gang” to “congre Continue reading
“Qoozins” was the name I came up with for some cartoon characters I created a long time ago. I made them based off people I knew and animals we had. Continue reading
My style of writing is a bane to college professors everywhere. I normally end up with lower grades because of it, but I don’t really mind. It’s the way I write and I like writing this way. See, my mind works a little different than some people. I write better than I speak. When talking, I forget words.
For example, one day I had to look at my wife and say,
“You know the word. It’s got pages and you read it.”
“That’d be a book, dear.”
However, when I’m typing, words flow out of me that I sometimes Continue reading
So while being stuck in bed because you’ve got the flu, or your foot was operated on, there are always ways of amusing yourself. Some are rather obvious, like taking cold medicine. That’s always an enjoyable experience, right? Here’s a few of the less obvious ways to amuse yourself when you’re sick as a dog:
Love is like a rose, covered in pain.
Trying to understand it will drive you insane.
People have tried to learn how it makes you feel,
But the thing about love is no one ever will.
Love is like the water which can smoothly flow
It is also like a turtle which moves very slow.
Love is like the sun which shines from day to day,
But it Continue reading