Sleep slithers silently, stalking slumbered stories. Slowly, soft simple sounds support Sleep’s succession. So Self, since seduced, sanctions serene sequestration, subsequently sending sentient senses, secondary. Sleep’s search shortens significantly. Soon, subconscious stories summoned, satiate sleep’s set-up scheme.
Tag: Posts
It Is The Greatest Gift of All: Stephen Sigurdson
It flows through your heart and soul like blood flows through your veins. It feeds on the successes of the past. It is tested by struggle. It helps you survive the depths of emotion, and celebrates the heights of being. It gives life meaning. It is essential to living. No matter how hurt, broken, ridiculed … Continue reading It Is The Greatest Gift of All: Stephen Sigurdson
Dark: Papion
God put your arms around me, guide me I’m blind, I can’t see. Today is the day I need to pray, that you show me a brighter day. Everything is dark and I am alone, here I am before your throne. What do you see when you look at my face? Let me answer for … Continue reading Dark: Papion
A Man's Legacy: Jordan Derksen
His story had been written on the casket walls much, like a sarcophagus. His story scratched on the walls. A story that some say took a lifetime, but passed by, more like short, years. Those years, where you felt most like, life! alive! thrust into your own fate. With faith, optimism, courage and resolve. The … Continue reading A Man's Legacy: Jordan Derksen
End Begins…: John Oross
(Spoken into telephone receiver with passion) Please don’t leave me, I will change… promise. (Pause) Why do you say this when you mean that? (The phone is hung up) “An end is another beginning. Any beginning has another end.” Life is a string of choices made Some find happiness while other are played Looking for … Continue reading End Begins…: John Oross
The Dread of Clear Blue: James Adamson
It's not just the glaring sun that bothers, it is the confused metaphor; the sadness of blue and the heaven above of blue. When the sun is a cool meadow or gently cast over suburban houses and the trees cradle the moist white air it could be the floor of saints, this ceiling above. And … Continue reading The Dread of Clear Blue: James Adamson
The Ballot Box: Gerald Herron
On a foreign shore, the voters gather for an earthly matter; casting votes, tallying up the score, deciding my forevermore. And as I look over my resume, I have loved a woman with all my heart, cursed God for all he took, and can I find a way to forgive myself for the one's I've … Continue reading The Ballot Box: Gerald Herron
Howling: Robert St. Germain
Like wolves howling in the night, your voice makes me feel alright. And my soul rises up to a moon so bright. In the deepest woods of my heart, something tells me we shall never part. Your presence is a cool fall wind, taking me somewhere I have never been. Fall is a prelude to … Continue reading Howling: Robert St. Germain
Decadent Creatures Wrecked by Mounting Ambition: Cassandra Kulay
It was easy to start out ambitious, to believe all that mattered was fame and wealth, for those blessed enough to observe the cycles turning, gradually as the seasons, into love beyond measure, a religion of narcissism and cult innuendo. Blinded by recognition as a good in itself, the dramatic rivalries played out with operatic … Continue reading Decadent Creatures Wrecked by Mounting Ambition: Cassandra Kulay
My Confession: Peter Herget
I am at peace when I am writing. It gives clarity to all who surround me, everything around is quiet, still. Nothing moves, only thoughts flow. As I sit here, I am blissfully aware of all that is around. This life is like a rose, without its thorns it would not be as beautiful as … Continue reading My Confession: Peter Herget
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