Some holidays feel like tombstones on the calendar
These days smell like dusty dishes, broken flowers and tired pictures
Flashbacks seem bright – some not
Numbers that don’t count
Hands unheld
Candles boxed
Food not cooked
Time for a New Tradition
Home » Posts tagged 'Time'
Tag Archives: Time
At the Fault Line
If you get the chance to spend time with a group of talented writers – do it
Cheers to a New Year!
Again
When time holds its hand over the mouth of a life, what do you do
Dust off memories
Find old pictures
Focus on moments – Gone
Re-calibrate
Seize every moment
Live while you can
Do it quickly…
Time will strike again.
Last Tradition
Retreating to land of sun worshipped silence.
Unwinding the mind with elder presence.
Unpacking a year on timeless earth.
Six days of …So Long
One day of Hello
B&B Write
Patiently held in time.
A Bed and Breakfast lives nestled against guardian trees – near a water’s edge.
Agelessly creaking as feet move through and pause.
Themed rooms reflect different light, casting moments.
Old world escapes the kitchen, changing fireplace air.
Refining pieces and capturing thoughts; quietly the compulsion unfolds.
Writer’s escape.
Learning to Kill
I don’t even remember the first Time that I did it.
It was no big deal, not like forming some kind of habit.
Over Time I did it a little more often, I quietly killed some.
Sometimes it was fun, mostly just doing it out of occasional boredom.
Suddenly one day I was driven to obsession.
Murdering in mass and serial slaughtering consumed me.
Death now burned my eyes as they opened in the early hours.
Random methods to choke, smother and drown Time became routine.
Driving the need to kill Time and feed my aging Dragon.
Phone Ghosts
My phone has traces of acquaintances, pets, friends and family who are no longer living.
No longer living here with us.
Their birthday’s pop-up as if to remind and say “Don’t forget me.”
Photos in the memory mix float around and surface at times, blending in with new experiences.
It is hard enough to say “Goodbye” in this life,
making [Delete] impossible.
So, My Collection Grows…
Something Uncharacteristic of Self
Writing, I began to write after my dog Sarrah died.
For reasons unknown to me this became my way to cope with losing her and to absorb my time. Writing was never ‘My Thing”, I actually hated it while in school. After a year of writing daily I began taking classes, attending writing seminars and even started a blog.
It seems she led me down another path, perhaps one without an end.
Collective Lie
We were off to explore a college.
Jeff and I acquired the correct paperwork, our parents approved it.
Being seniors in high school this accepted right of passage allowed for a few additional days of absence.
All of our individual teachers initialed the forms and counselors filed them with praises.
It was the best ski trip of the season!
Can Bryan Write? 