Brendan W Vittum
Brendan W Vittum is a self-styled Poet, Author, Philosopher, Photographer, Graphic Designer, and Hardware & Software Specialist whose experience spans more than 25 years. His works have been published in a variety of publications, online and in print. A Freelance Author specializing in Graphic Design, Open Source & Web Technologies, and Living Life, Mr. Vittum has worked for a number of publications and private clients over the years in addition to his pursuit of understanding the human heart, mind, and soul through Thought, Written & Spoken Word - as well as Music and the Visual Arts.
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Education/Experience
Technical Help Desk • Technical Help Desk (Microsoft) • Computer Technical Support - Master Computer Fundamentals (Win XP) • MS Windows 2000 Fundamentals • Computer Fundamentals (Win 95/98) - WWW Concepts • Internet Concepts •Interests
technology, tutorials, IT, software, hardware, creative writing, poetry, Philosophy, Photography, Graphic Design, Graphic Design, Open Source, Web Technologies, and Living Life, Thought, Written, Spoken Word, Music, Visual Arts.Motto
...Wired for life.
Displaying Results 1 - 200 (of 420) for Yahoo! Voices
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Love Waits"...To stay is to rest easy, safely, in memory and desire. To cross; caution tossed to Love, Hearts to Life. Needing to live we plunge now through those seas. Heart takes heart and slices rivers of time, rivers of reason..."
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Grey Hound Dreams;"...Chasing the stars backwards towards the place of birthing; towards the new day - old dreams renewed. He is following now. Following the Moon to your doorstep..." -
Ode to CoffeeA ditty spawned by a conversation with a cousin "...but a sip of you curdled a young face to rigor - now drunk daily, to exist without you is Hell defined; but a day with your warm, wet, bitter, love?..." -
Marathoner"...what was left in running; He runs away that He may run back. Such is his way - outrunning, never running..." -
An Answer;"...And for the few who this is not enough? The hearts born to bleed, to bleed slow like the squeezing of the stones, leaving a Rorschach of ink across the sheet of our Lives?..." -
Quiet's Apologia"...when the outside world's sanity screams loudest against the shore of his inner mind; when most he ought stand and scream loudest; the silent man becomes ever more silent, swamped in a wave of perceived external expectation and demand..." -
Surrealist Cubism in Verbal Form:"...words the dagger; his tongue the hands which inexorably drew the two together until nothing was left but to wallow in love's carnage, to weave splintered sanity with the threads of want; to weave the cloak of penitence, and remembrance..." -
That Man, I;"...This - this he knows is real '" really happened '" he caught it on film. Over-filled with joy - like the seven year old boy showing a man he could ride a bike - he waited for the woman to return home. He showed that man ."that is nice." he said..." -
Loss' Contradiction...a passing thought on finding and losing "...searching not to the finding sought. just the finding of more of the losing..." -
Defining a Madness;"...differing results to no avail is not Madness. No. No great calamity of mind, no travesty of society is Madness. Far too simple, Madness defined is no more then reading the letters of Hearts past..." -
Island Weather; December 02, 2009.."...pot belches quietly - standing in the portal where sunlight and manlight mingle the cool of the day dances on the front - heat from last night's fire..." -
Thoughts, Evoked on a Reread of Frost and Mowing"...stands, half-shadowed in primal forests of past, half-drenched in the sunshine of today - unwilling, unable -unsure which - to take his place in either. Unchanging change, and the wood. Always - there is the wood..." -
Self-Center"...a place without picture for eye or ear, where leaves are dead vegetables - where no thoughts from before, from after, matter." "Imagine beings being bereft of reflection, of contemplation."..."
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Unicorns.."...Blinded by vision I became confused - lost my Self in the desire common to all humans - in a longing felt by none but our Selves..." -
The Splintering Time"...Each night his fingers open to speak, and each night Bones finds nothing but a fist full of splinters flying..." -
The Space Between Heart Beats"...tedium. When the hours march like Father Time and Old Man Wind in their unrelenting passage from eternity - to eternity. And these are the days which drag s l o w e r than the space between the beats..." -
The Coder's Note to Self (II);"...researching the errors after - rather than reverse - you complete your loop; coded and enslaved. ELSE: Code, and coded - live, and living - freedom found when the algorithm free-forms; breaking the loop, writing itself - each unknown..." -
June Fragments; Sirens -"...and when a man hears the distant, crying, summon of the Siren, He Must go to Her; it is his Nature..." -
"Draco Cor""...There is a Dragon in you; the voice of the old ways, and your unconscious - primal birthplace of your dreams...." -
The Missing Letter;"...we spoke as though we sat here - speaking still. Does it matter that I never heard, never felt - only read - these things across a backbone of light? Does my hearing, feeling, of these, events transpiring in my head, alone, make them any less..." -
Myutopia"...fenced only by the heart's fences. I Was born in a land such as this, and so, I am an exile everywhere, and nowhere, that I go. I Was born in Myutopia, born of a world existing in my mind - and for this they call me mad, an idealist, dreamer..." -
Pulp.FictionJust one of those, not-so-random, thoughts I consume, as it consumes me. "...tavern at the other - bookends of a pulp-fiction life. between? the worn-out doggerel..." -
Meaninglessness Meanings -"...Steeped in the stew of mediocrity, they killed him as they kill all who are swaddled in the lascivious, and wanton, indulgence - of existence. And they kill with nothing more than a chain of non-thought and..." -
Just Another Day.."...and a world smiles, dances in Rebirth's joy. In here The Fool does not smile, does not dance - in here no sun shines..." -
Human - V"...being Human - Birthright - not to be feared, not to be avoided, not to be subdued by this modern suicide. Embraced; embrace what you have been taught infirm..." -
Contemplations; VI:"...Torture; not the memory of what could, what might have been. Torture; not the unending hunger for what might, what could, be - but is not. Torture; not a poem in each inhalation, exhalation; in each thought and each non-thought..." -
Lost.Word"...what you did not want me to hear, did not want me to forget. thoughts scribbled in a second for remembrance - but where? too late, damage done; a life-time heard in a split-second; too much, too soon, and now..." -
May Fragment - Thunder's Reflection"...experiencing not conversation, not companionship - experiencing a life of epiphanal moments spewing living words to stone heart, mind of the dead - watching the rhythm of a passing world, cursing the solitude which protects him..." -
Recollections - XXXVI; Insomnia's Mad Mutterings of MemoryInsomnia's Mad Mutterings of Memory... "...Met a girl there; the girl of my dreams (how long ago was that? Twenty years? I Think...) - A man, a woman, a lone, in the mad house..." -
Anachronism"...ends, in The End, betrayed not by The Words served - by a society grown apathetic to the meaning, The Worship of The Words. misunderstood. This Anachronism holds to Yeats; "Words are always getting conventionalized..." -
Awareness-es;"...Soft whispers in sleep and the low harmonic of your blood. The rhythmic click of eyelids, the high whine of your neural net, the slow grind of muscle and bone - interspersed by the frantic pop of tendons in..." -
Sun Thoughts;"...What must it be like to find the dream dashed by the reality of the dream? What must it be like to wake on another morning and find the serfs of your fiefdom slipped their bonds in the night?..." -
Mothers - May '11"...Until time folds on itself, until you are he, and he is you, he will never know you - you, will never know he. No one ever knew his Mother, and he never knew his Mother's son..." -
Ripples"...worship the simplicities which, in truth, are feared for forcing to face the simple emptiness of complexity; the great contradiction of an existence bent on ripple-less-ness? ripple-less..." -
The May Fogs"...Does not - not truly. Past steps from past - leaves no answer, no break, no release - leaves only a heat, soul, mind to fumble through the grey thick of unanswered, unstated, was nots..." -
Phoenix -"...amongst the Stars, nor In the Hearts of others - seek your Self amid the Ashes of your existence..." -
Weighing Heavy; II -"...leads to thoughts, words, wants, once believed irrelevant - futile considerings to be considered alone in Darkness's safety, packed back to non-considering at Light's approach; considerings..." -
Weighing Heavy; I"...Time. Time makes the one exception, the one true companion for the acolyte of Boethius' Lady - and Time weighs heavy on the man and His mind. Time - and Her thoughts press against His thought;..."
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Life Flames -"...Death; never cause for exuberance. Never. A flame which, you may love - or you may not. A flame, which, no different from your flame, ...was hated..."
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Fragment XXVII Splinter Spitter"...words, like splinters plucked from a dried, horny, old soul, must be worried until spat out one thought at a time. The rest of the nights? A mind, which would best be served in sleep, stares unseeing at the pictured walls..."
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"Doctor Dolittle's" Fee"..A body to work must pay the price. The price? the voice that spoke animal. This new lease on the world at the cost of whistling, of chirping; in stealing twenty-six bones from Bones, a body briefly was returned to a man - a voice silenced..." -
Dance of the Giants -"...mothballed memories and wood smokes wrapped comfortably in the sweet blanket of melancholic melodies and past pitches and muds - Inside, dances the memory of an Angel - of faded laughters. Inside? Inside sits the man who remembers..." -
BlatherThere Are times when a poet's best poetry is to shut mouth. and pen... -
For --"...speak now by listening, by hearing all that you might say. Unable to hear with the ear, His eyes will listen to your every word. He would hold you now as you speak out your pain, your rage; arms unable to enfold, He would wrap you within his mind..." -
...Who?"...You, half-formed putty - a shape to dissolve at his touch - You are the desire and passion whose name he can only whisper to the night; You are the dream; You are the words he cannot write..." -
Easter 2011 - No Pleasantries Here.." -- celebrate the gift of life in the echo of rites to the older gods - the ones who do not mind being forgotten, who sit, quiet, in the forest corners, lost in thought upon the mountains, and bathing their toes in the sea until you remember them -- " -
The Law of HeartsAn exercise in 3 parts of Victorian Thought, if not Style. "We Always have that - even when we are certain none exists. We try - We try where there is only failure. We dream - We dream where there is barren land. We are possibility - We are possibility" -
White Noise"...a silent world screaming in an endless, cacophonous, stream of disorganized chatter. The old 'coon dodging man's chaos - Chaos hounding Bones; a tattered and furred city dweller..."
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Meditating Winds"...a machine - the blacker black on a night turned morning - combine in bicycle once more. Trudging, ascending the hill past still unseen Bones smoking in dark winds, watching a minute, an hour, a day, a lifetime, a world spin by..." -
On the Rocks"...becomes the norm and our demons bedfellows - when these happen, we reach for our rock, whatever rock that might be. But what rock does the rock grab aholt of when that rock begins..." -
The Modern Chameleon"...Who are you? Really - Who are You? I am the one with no taste who tastes every syllable which departs your lips, and I am the one who smells each quivering word you utter to the darkness. I am the blind man who sees a nighttime world..." -
Cancer II -"...A phone jangled in the kitchen - missing cousins - brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, children, parents? A brother who is cousin, nephew, and grand son calling to speak of finding a sister, daughter and aunt who is Mother stroked..." -
The Missing I;"...Should he have known then - as he now suspects she knew, then - that she was passing, cramming, a life's lessons into a few short months of evenings? What were the signs missed that should have told of what was about to come..." -
Those Are the Nights -" -- see more than can ever be seen from one place. Whatever the reason you would blame, these are the nights '" more than any other '" that I want nothing like I want to disappear into the darkness like a hundred times before -- " -
Perfect Imperfection"...in having, the whole is revealed - a thousand thousands of pitted, cracked, edges; cutting and unkind to the loving hand. I am all things, and I am nothing; I am you and you are I; and we are nothing more, or less, than Human; beings perfect..." -
Productions of Conformity"...Opposite domiciles of the broke - a long, low, line of bricks; a factory of conforming society frowns at, reminds of all that he despises - a high school proud of its production of machined perfection.,," -
Waves;"Alone - singular Waves joined by that which binds them forever as one - nothing will cause, permit, union until both have starved enough to need the body of another to love - to live. While the age-old debate between choice, or choice-less-ness, rages;" -
Silence - VII"...could not be silenced - and his voice was. In being he is Silence and his scream deafens the heavens. In his going those who sought to silence Silence would try once more to silence Silence..." -
Kipling's Five?"....from that box that is their new god and offer the burnt oblations of mind, thought, will, and hide within the comfort of the gilded cage their complicit hand has wrought whilst screaming how!? How? -
Perceptions of Do-Be;"...who you be more completely? And in the changing of what you do, do you change your being? And should you change that being - leaving others clinging to the older you - do you remain unchanged? Might the perceptions in other minds create another..." -
A Rage, Justified -"..morning's dark light for all he is - and is not? Is it so shocking such a man should appear bitter? Should feel rough to the touch to those unwilling to know The Conscript? Is it so surprising Gossamer would learn to sheath itself in a million harsh.." -
.DesensitizedObservations of the modern human animal.".desensitized. ...i believe - but i do not have faith. i care - but i do not regard. i consume - but i do not taste. i feel - but i do not relate...." -
Insomnia - V...'reckon the title sums it up - a theme as old as my breathing. "...Abandoned streets find a slow life and in the sound of traffic Bones finds signs he is alive..." -
"Buried Alive in the Blues."blue is good? That if you live by writing emotion blue is not just good - necessary? That life, not a bowl of jelly, one might choose to wrap themselves in truth, not illusion and delusion? That Living The Blues may be the way others know, feel, Alive? -
Freedom III"...serve only to separate. Cast aside race - steeped in prejudices differentiating your oneness. Cast aside creed - shadows of The Creed; to care, to love the fellow Human..." -
Insomnia, Speaking with Insomnia"...needs to bleed thought to word - and they are the scattered nights when least able to write a damn thought. Every five seconds the mind leaps from where it should be to the next unneeded cigarette and the liquid reliefs that bring no relief..." -
You Call Me Progress.."...Beautiful. Perfect. Too beautiful, too perfect. Without flaw, the arts, musics, poetries, things fashioned by these new wonders - sterile, lacking in the beauty of the pain of the failure of the flaw. The beauty of our human-ness..." -
Bones of Winter"...Time slid on its face, winter left these western shores - left all except one frozen soul under the Dour Doug Fir and Cedar. Spring, then summer came to an island, came to all but that one corner where twilight and winter lingered..." -
Middle-Aged Contemplations I"...the memory of middle-aged, balding, wild-bearded men, the heroes of a youth who stared back at a world through glass eyes from under bushed brows - I saw myself. Seeing them, my self, them I wondered -- do you suppose..." -
Rejecting Illusions of Reality"...never met, never caring - he for them, them for he. What purpose did it serve in the end? Sitting returned to where he was holding nothing more now than then, holding exactly nothing. He questions the what and the why of his self..." -
Somniorum"...occasionally they shatter; a million crystalline shards crumbling to dust. do not be sad, fail, shatter, or not - rather than grieving a dream lost, rejoice! fulfilled, unfulfilled your dream..." -
Deus Mortuus -=-Deus mortuus because, sure as you and I slew the body nailed to the wood of the olive in the place of the skull that is called Gol'gotha two thousand years ago, you and I slowly slew the harder, greater, more glorious and beautiful substance that was God
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Lamentations - II"...It ends tonight. It ends and where the wild man was the civilized man must be. It ends and that wild man, banished back to his caverns, fears the slavery drooling to reclaim him; fears he may never break free again...." -
Awakenings.."...Awakenings... Bare headed in cloud, bare footed in mud, bare bodied in rain, I awoke. I awoke at last and saw the life of a man in the fire, in the dream...."
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Honeyed Vinaigrettes"...laws of attracted repulsions. Vinegar - to some, honey - to others; what was vinegar becomes honey becomes vinegar and which do you hear..."
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Skin, to Skin - Which, is Which?"...twisted, convoluted manners hither and thither - no apparent progressions - but it is there, inexorable movement past loves and hates, accomplishment and failure falling to the dust despite desire for a world where Kierkegaard-ian philosophies..." -
Hitch-Hikin' for a Star-Liner"...burning, being, be and they are, just are; and He? Gone, gone hitch-hikin' for a star-liner to carry him back, back to right - back to where they were write - back to when the dream that they once might be, that once they were, write, wrote..." -
Death by Dinner =-For those who fear I write only the drear. "...Hell with it all, give me my bowl full of hot eggs mashed with butter and mayonnaise salted heavy enough to last one hundred years, consumed by the consumer in one minute flat - not fat..." -
Fragment XVII; LensingDrivel; "...purpose is strangely that - Mine; not to be seen through Your lens. Your purpose equally strangely that - Yours; not to be seen through My lens. Simple, incomprehensible, concept? The key to living well - the defining of a phrase oft lip..."
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Do You?"you do not know what you think - how is it that you are fit to pass judgments, are fit to dispense wisdoms through thinly veiled dictatorships of superiority, on the who's, the wants, the haves, the belief's, the feelings or the thoughts of any other" -
Hydrocodone Thoughts on Inaugurating an Art ForumTo launch a new forum "...Your speech, your living and your loving, your making dinner and your cleaning toilets - just some of a thousand expressions of art, and all the arts within you never considered art..." -
A Dash of Obituary:"...In this cosmology which is the human existence our back-stories are littered with the ghosted remains of friendship's campfires. Those which, never intended, long abandoned, we swore to never leave..." -
Wild Man's Cry -"..her gravity overwhelms that of our own bodies - worse, he does not just howl in the midnight hour where none hear, he howls loud and proud and public forcing our own words on our ears. He is the man who turns his back on the world we kill to posses.." -
The If-Ing of it All --"...If these things matter to your children, Will they matter to the children of the children? Should not this - and only this - be the filter for judgment..." -
Ghosted;"...cluttered and consumed with that endless stream of raging thoughts screaming, whose every inhalation and exhalation is a coincident act of creation, destruction. This is for Him, this is for Her, this is for Them, this is for What could never be..." -
Age A-knockin'"...You will look up and realize - realize it is 3:30 in the morning; realize it is 34 degrees outside; realize that you are outside at 3:30 in the morning, in 34 degree weathers; realize that you are bare-legged under the smoking robe..."
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It was Hope"...Ignoring - experience just this once, Practicing - what he wants to hold true, Believing - the words of dead masters, Teachings - thoughts from across the thousand years divide - the dead Heart willed a flame where nothing burns but for a moment..." -
Fragment II: The Darkling's BenedictionA prayer for the new year: "...Knowledge light your path; A sword of Truth and shield of Honor to defend thee always; Integrity's armor - inseparable from the flesh; And Love to be your companion..."
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AlwaysSome things should Not be writ; this may be of that ilk: "...in each dream and terror and on each Morrow's rise ripple through time and memory altering the fate of all who surround you. So much rests in your hands - so many things not yet..." -
2010; Closure?"robe of morning's blue light; shoulders still cramped, brachials still ablaze, still listing to Janis and her Bobby Mcgee while sucking sour coffees, nicotines - still thinking those same Insane thoughts - Realizing he stands now at Frost's metaphoric" -
Sickness of Home"...he thinks not just of there, but of you; wishes he could wish you all the good wishes one wishes at this time of year. Here - no matter where here is - wishing to be there, there not mattering so long as not to be where here, or there, is..." -
I Divided"...illusion - your illusion, my illusion, their illusion and our illusion meets with perpetrated delusion masked as the real. I Stand at the cross-road of what might be and what is - where all reality, illusion blurs - I stand...." -
Fragment: Saturday, December 18, 2010"...from their eyes, frozen fingertips groping crack and Bone. Wind and Rain, Siblings Elemental these two - ever-green - sheathed in glittering, shivering, chattering ices. Wind and Rain, Siblings Elemental these two..." -
Job - 30:29;"...dream the dreams you would deny dreaming, fearing. Tonight, hiding among the Doug Fir, the Western Cedar, watching the dreams we can never dream all things are silent but for the distant Heron's cough which caries in it the sighs of old men..." -
Death of a Child"through the detached mind - the rant and rave continued and a child began to congratulate himself - it was working. for the first time in months he did not feel a thing. granted, it took no effort to block physical pain - one quickly grows accustomed" -
Surreality = Between the Betweens"...water spraying from a steel tank - no valve to spin, pipe to clamp, a thirteen year old spastically crippled man-child of bone clambered atop the tank to flip the switch - kill the power. Fighting to live - ungrounded electricity shot through..." -
Secrets IV:"...Secrets kill - like the slow, dry-rot eating old country barns, secrets tear heart and mind to shreds, one piece at a time - the slow decay. Secrets poison the self against the self, against other selves - against all selves..." -
Of Bones, Blood, Mother, and Love:"..sticky green smokes - He spun downward into Himself; desperate to throw a lifeline into the darkness of His mind You sent Him for rehabilitation. His retaliation? Claimed You, not He, was the drunk, You, not He, needed the help - You responded..."
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Complex Simplicity II"...My hands carried the burnt offerings; proffering flayed hearts written in the word which you inspected in each minute detail, breathing life into dead gifts with each touch. Your letters run through my thoughts while unseen shadows..." -
...Sunday Splinters"...stains of purity on the unclean, undeserving; the song says No one Loves, Lives forever. Staring bleary-eyed from virtual worlds at the real he needs, fears, his fingers too slow '" mind too fast for either, desires freedom from bonds..." -
Possible Impossibilities Possible?One more exercise in Victorian styles; "...and if the earth spins no more while seas boil away would time stand still? standing still, be sundered? and if time is sundered would that at last free a man from an oath he longs terribly never to be free of?" -
Love's Homicide"...He killed It. You did not kill It. We did not kill It. They did not kill It. She did not kill It. He killed It. A wandering breeze through summer wood It came - unexpected - out of afternoon darknesses sItting at his radioactive fire's edge..." -
Cracking;"...Too often the first to fade. And one man, by nature, by mind, by fate and by design and by body draws friends like flies; the good, the bad, and those in-between - all meaning well..." -
The Nephilim's Narrative"...who lives in a world where the Ghosts of our Yesterdays dance with those of our Tomorrows - a world of Elves and Imps, Trolls and Goblins, a place of The Nosferatu filled with Brownies and Bean Sidhe, where The Nephilim live and more..." -
The Death Watch"...And if you know these things, do you know the complete finality which strips any momentary delusions of escape? Of pretending it never happened? The resting of the living hand upon the dead brow - slowly slipping down over forehead - over eyes..." -
Memories of Fall"...frozen to burnt gem until sun tinges leaf-tip and diamond melts dripping to the floor below. These are his memories, these are his home that is no more. These are the memories evoked by Your photographs, these are his Memories of Fall..." -
Imaginations of Intoxication;"...these thirty minutes? An eternity of heaven in one mind. Forgotten was the now hardly remembered tingle crawling gently along skin pulled drum-tight over cheekbone, ears buzzing silent and the flushed flesh cooking soft under thick walrus whiskers..."
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Fragment: 5:52 Pm Uncommon Common Rains;"... rain which will soak you to the bones before making it ten foot from your door - a rain whose absolution holds all the joy and the terror of your darkest fear and sweetest dream mingled together for earth and soil and soul to drink...' -
Fragment: 5:00 PM - Noah's Rains;"...They begin to bleed together like so many rivulets running down the walls of his small moldering cottage, each drop - separate; each drop - unique; each drop - joining like lonely hearts running down the hill through fern and bramble..." -
Arrogant Arrogance'...repeats; but never believes. wishing for blind acceptance's peace, eeding always the answers, needing always the reasons, and bones is confused. how is it that a man who has only chaos within, is sought to define order?..."
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The Waiting - ||"...sixty-two days in and then it begins; the slow leaching of time leaves poisons fading, leaves a man with thirteen days before the slow, creaking, cracking, curling becomes complete once more; leaves a body to be governed..." -
Questions of God"...at each others throats for a few misconstrued, misunderstood, words from a misty past wrapped in lores perpetuated by those with position to lose? Do I follow still the teachings which gave a child nightmares? Nightmares that still plague the man..." -
Never Intended, Never Regretted:"...times, souls, changing - intents diverging - each beat watering earth below; all that was, is, might be, coexists in this instant, in the heart of a single raindrop whispering their names, crashing earthwards..." -
Unfading Thought -=-"...lives and hearts blossom to flame and fade with time - it is the way of all things, all thoughts - excepting you. You are a thought, not a related thought, not a thought in conjunction with other thoughts, certainly not..." -
September Lament; Mist and Blackberry"...perfume which can, should, not be smelled - not here, not now, never really there - it has gone forever. Stepping to a door, inhaling deep of nicotine and wood smoke - the impossible blackberries of the vanished..."
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Night Shadows"...in the guttering wind of a coming winter's chill when the small hours were all cross-woven midnight black and shimmering ghost light of summer's last full moon - he stood naked in the dark smoking one more thought..."
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Soul-Bridge Burning"...felt the burn of life's fire - are The Ones burning bridges - The Ones who have felt the flames and continue to feel, to care, to love despite themselves? How many? How many of these souls must I burn before I learn..." -
The Art of Stooping"...What have we lost? The place. Where is this place? Right outside your door - in neighborhoods not yet over-run with the human weed called condominium and high-rise apartment. Right outside your front door..." -
Splinters : Fragment"...splinters; splintered words of light, of shadow, of being he would weave still for her - her alone. But nothing is forever. Nothing - nothing but The Fading Man's vow, dust, and Splinters...." -
Some Days; Indifference"...she morphs - the great dragon bathing him in his, in her, in their, living flame of passion. The mind blanks on those days - conscious thought fades and a world disappears into the cauldron of creation - and her word..." -
Shadows"...in certain lights take on the vivid fullness of living beings. Reflections of ourselves, they visit from that other plane of consciousness. Eventually, light fades and the shadow folk with it..."
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Excuse MeMidnight rage spillng "...Excuse me. Excuse me if the Universe gave me a mind where She gave you a body. Excuse me for being human in a world which does not permit humanness - only sameness..." -
The Deadly Awareness of Bones"...Squirrel at home in that tree, another, his brother, stirring in the other. The light - liquid gold fire dribbled in the dark of early morning bark rising high over ground bound Ivy creeping along the edges of your mud..."
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Quiet, Which Will Not Be Quieted"...have you listened to the voice of sanity masquerading as madness until sanity began to doubt sanity? In turn considering the terrible thought; the doubt of sanity which guarantees you are completely sane?..." -
Ordinarily Extra-Ordinary"...after a shite day, the ones you hold late at night in the dark to stave off the demons - and the ones you hold in turn when their demons come to dance. Ordinary folks doing extraordinary things. Heroes for a lifetime..." -
Soul Pieces of Self -"...Reach back with fingers of memory and fondle childhood places, people, friends, Lovers, the way we in our dreams tenderly caress the dream body languidly resting upon our own - private rememberings ..."
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The Potter's Vessel"...Broken, shattered - this potter's vessel lies in shards strewn across the floor, knife-like edges so old their sharpness worn to softness long ago; does not match the finer, more whole pieces cast in the kiln..."
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Tme - I"...But she does, did, will, better than most. Talk of a clock set to her time. Which time is real time? Her time? His time? Their time? Or your time? The world's time? All time? No time?..." -
(no Subject)"...Much time has passed, and much - good and not so - has happened over the intervening gulf of time. Tell me a little of your tale? Tell of the years - harms, joys, they have offered - I in turn will try to respond in kind..." -
Insomniac's Monologue"...I am the voice, you are the temple, and we exist. Your mind scares you and you scare your mind. Once, you quieted thoughts with golden liquid fires and thick, wet, sticky smokes - once, but even that has been taken now..." -
One Day..Petty, could not resist though. "...One day to do these things free and clear - no consequence. One day to show all those who think they know that they know nothing. One day to purge all the rage and disgust and hurt I - the few I..." -
Mothers & Confusions of the Mad"...Some nights, after exhaustion has exacted its toll and the dreams come at last, I burst upright; chest tense, muscles stiff, choked in the panic of that last night. I become confused. I Remember the fear as I raced around the sound..." -
Physics of the Heart"...Flashing, stitching themselves together to create (his) life; a glimpse of hair, the silken lilt of voice, laughter - children known - never met - feathery touch of the only hand known to cause these muscles cessation of the endless twitching..."
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One Year;"...desire to be human for a day, to taste the fruit Eve fed Adam, Bones reached his fingers outwards towards a bit of light floating on the night wind. That night it was not a sane mind, heart, pen filled with questions no right..." -
Lamentations II"...truth of trolls as they walk unseen amongst you each day - in sooth a troll myself though you in modern rejections have forgot. I. I am the one who speaks of the dead for the dead to you who are become dead..." -
Lullaby for Bones"...And if you hide from yourself, if that dæmon Sleep turns to Fear, Fear to Insomnia - You gonna end up seeing yourself in the looking glass of life; every window, pool of water, pair of eyes '" there He will be..." -
Island Summer"...Amid it all the lazy play of sunlight through limb and dust. Tonight? Tonight the Heron cough quietly of the day - somewhere distant Old Man Hoot Owl warms up the Night chorus..." -
They Come Along"...They come along - after He has sucked Her veins clean of poisons - Heart of doubt. They come along - callow fools come after the showing of what Love might, Love can, Love should be and desire is rekindled in emptied vessels..."
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Willow Dance"...Emulate his fluidity rejecting the brittle rigidity of unyielding Hickory for Old Man Willow's suppleness..."
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Era De Doloris"...He should erase those - pictures, words; should stop visiting, remembering, torturing, existing on a diet of tired old songs and a forlorn belief in hope - hoping..." -
In Sane Perspective"...Working sixty hours a week, for sixty years in some insignificant office doing an even more insignificant job, collecting an equally insignificant paycheck, a paycheck which is spent before ever being cut, living to chase The Dragon..."
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Soul Silence"...Bones so calm '" almost hiding the roiling, seething, storm within. A thousand feelings, thoughts, questions screaming words '" he cannot say a word. There is a place he might speak '" speaking meaning the undesired pulling others..." -
Life Theme"...And if you, observing the patterns of mood, action, belief or behavior, create my life theme, can I escape the jailer and his bars? A prison erected by society. Is it possible to escape the perception of my Self through others..." -
Poison:"...to urinate, to feed the soul with nicotine and caffeine, then awareness of a clock's slow passage, sun out side, the murder calling on the wind... Before any of these register - Numbness at arm and legs end - a tickling tingle registering..." -
Open. Mind"...Those who attempt to contain or constrain knowing, learning, are, in the mind of this student, those who have forgotten. Who have forgotten the pursuit of knowledge, enlightenment, is not a vocation, nor do such pursuits have any prerequisites..." -
Portents on the Wind -(garbage Really?) "...Crow is said to possess, to embody. Still, even Bones with his knowledge disregards what he knows, reason traded for superstitious beliefs backing portents of Crow and his brethren as doom and death..." -
Stumble -"...flame shrouded in grey-brown pillars topped in still other variants; green flame floating under cloud-infested sky..."
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The Wind is Watching Now"...and the wind is watching now. Without knowing '" they have known all their lives. Without seeing '" they have watched all their lives. Without speaking '" they have heard all their lives. Without touching '" they have felt all their lives..." -
Once --"...Do you know? Do you know who will hear you? I knew. I knew who knew my ravings without explaining - who understood them for plain English spoken, written. I knew who knew - once -- ..."
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The Proposition; August 21, 2009 Fragment...this piece is exactly what the title suggests; "...Should this dim verbal light shining through appeal, I invite you to nudge this dusty portal further open..." -
The Children's Moon --"...When I was a child my father, like many fathers, told stories on occasion. Many are far too dark for this night's purpose; tales full of men and women starving themselves, of men and women - children even - hurled to lions by Romans..." -
Living Dead"...say the dead cannot walk; Bones knows this untrue. He sees them walk you see. He watches the dead walk up his hill each day at six, back down again at six. He watches humanity - packed like lambs in a slaughter-house shoot waiting the gates..." -
Lines"...felt the fingers; velvet at first, fondling the soul, morphing to thorn, shredding hearts with each gentle stroke? A sacrificial oblation of self and heart willingly laid upon the table. Where is the division between those, and the bitter cynic..." -
Sole Mates"...i, all scrawny and twisted - you, thin and colored; two birds hopping along the street's edge, half - in light - in shadow - whispering..." -
Phone"...Phone rings, not often perhaps, but too often for the anti-social likings of Bones. Never the voices desired; the tone and timber of ones loved and gone - some from life, from disease, from murder of self and heart - and those..." -
October 2009"...Nothing. Nothing but evaporating memories collected from a fist full of smeared and wrinkled medical records recorded by reluctant doctors with no care who might try reviewing their notes eighteen years later when lawyers call with questions..." -
June Fragment IA Victorian Exercise - "...Flesh goose-bumps in the night's chill, thoughts drip from a sky darkened by considerations while chimes sing - though no fingers of wind stir to stroke their steely length..."
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Silence VWriter's Block broken, temporarily; "...Three hundred - more perhaps - verses; the number writ since Bones was sundered from heart and reason. How old are the old, and how young are the young? How bright is the night? How cold the sun?..."
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Four Years;Not certain this piece is done; "...their positions switched, he sees a woman worn and faded from life's fights; wants nothing more than to demand she heed the words she spent a lifetime telling him; Fight! ...and he knows it is too late - she is done..."
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You Were There"...You were there encased in frozen emerald, encased in steel and a seven year old tasted your love secretly. You were there hiding in the storage closet, under smoke-stained sinks, absolution doled out..."
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Imagine"...Imagine a world where young women are told to accept themselves, are beautiful in the who and what they are - and a ceaseless stream of contrary images parade past their eyes and ears..." -
The Mad Stylite"...sounds to assuage the mad solitude of the sojourner on the far western shore - a heart floats across a shattered continent and Bones, like the mad stylites from the teachings of childhood orthodoxies - ponders his reality..."
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Fragment; December 27, 2009"...of hissing rain and scraping bone; it is then - a propane flame flickers in the gloom to the west wrapped in fog and cloud; a figure, hands grasping morning glory, stands willing - between you..."
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On Breathing -Not overly satisfied with this, but... "...open yourself to the dragon in your soul and etch the words as they flow, not sentence, not verse, just words to record raw emotion. The beast of madness rubbing its scaly flesh against the core of your Self..." -
December RainToday's rain, a wistful melancholy, reminded me of this; I still hear.. "...shade of black as far back as the eye goes; broken by shards of light streaming from a neighbor's gives form to shapeless fog. If I listen close I can hear..."
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Birth Days -"...between us through time, how they faded and we a still stand - pillars on opposite edges of this land. I remember. Twenty-three years and I recall from this moment back to the night they brought you home - all squally and wrapped in white. -
...Wandering -"...nothing but dust and shadow and silence and death - that flame taken into the night forever. Four years and darkness wandered through darkness. A flame, flickering quietly to the east brought peace, light, to darkness - briefly night was the day..." -
Dystonia: A Definition for a Friend P II"...offer some comfort - but could irreversible destroy a nine-year old liver in fifty or sixty years - or lead to an auditory, hallucinatory, psychotic snap which made his reality the real for a brief glimmer. - but it would not suffice..."
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Bondage"...Master...? No he is no master, or crafter of thought to word, no Magician of Verbiage is it that pens these words. Bones's beauty, Bones's magic and his prowess, words of creation which destroy? No scribe of glory - a man, slave compelled to write..." -
It is Here -"...It is here, it is now - while a grand father, grand son consumed with the splitting, the stacking, the endless woodpiles of life - It is here, it is now - now and the days of the spring blur, fading to summer light..."
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Magiks -"...dusty Sunday afternoon in mid-May. Still... so still... too still... still, and even the great chime of The Dead moves not and humidity hangs from greying cloud. The Siren sings of ancient magiks - rites from a bygone age..." -
Dystonia: A Definition for a Friend P.I"...said to a nineteen-year old child glad only to have her child at last. Of the confusing lack of visible brain damage which should exit in the photographs, or the equally confounding mystery - no familial history. - but it would not suffice here..."
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Aglaia, the Moirae, and Bones"...not understand why, knowing as he does the psychology, the patterns, the behaviors, he reaches for Aglaia. In knowing, in reaching towards, tells Aglaia how in time fingers of bone will move from stroking her mind to crushing - will destroy Aglaia..." -
The Riddle"...The Riddle? I give it thus because the words terrify one such as I who has lived by words while running from his dreams. The first '" singular and alone, stands ninth in the line serving as noun and pronoun, with over eighty entries...."
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Webs -(just more mad thoughts) "...a web they make. A human web they call me. Like screaming alone in the mountains, knowing all the while no one can, will, hear your pleas. Take the audience from an exhibitionist - he will starve..."
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May Nine, 2010"...This parade of fifteen year-old Fury and middle-aged Indignation? Pursued by Love. Landing on bricks, wheels spinning madly for grip, man reaching for chair, boy, ready to unleash his words - Love halted him. And Bones left self-righteous..." -
Silence - IV"...As his fingers wrapped around the neck of this dream? Dissolved - so now you dissolve into the light you came from..." -
Is - Not - Is"...It is not the chill that seeps into the Bones no matter how Franklin's Dragon crackles and pops, nor the wish to feel a human touch on flesh not medicated; equipped with programming paddles, needles, or drills - though in part, I suppose it is..."
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Egg-fried Lamentations;"...The chanting and the Floyd, the Cohen and the Placebo, they scream at each other from the old Sherwood and his mind races from thought to thought picking each idea up, turning it over before the thought before has been completely dropped..."
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I Remember - II"...I remember all that from last night - the time-stamps on my actions in the electronic world; where I am real; say my last act was around nine o'clock last night - but I do not remember the order any of it happened in. Before that? I remember...." -
December 24, 2009"..Frozen in time, frozen in fog, he lies - a corpse in the mausoleum of the cosmos, blanket pulled to chin, tucked over - under - the shoulders wrapped in a shroud of cotton and polyester; drifting..." -
Bone ThoughtsJust random rantings a no one or nothing in particular... "...It is the sound of limb, bone, trees rubbing their dried fingers together in thought; the sound before the storm comes..."
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Dreaming;"...old Frank slipping through the night singing of "The Real McCoy" and the sky, bleeding its thought from cloud through tree and down, down to the ground where he hides - He might almost believe. Believe she never died. Believe the pain, the doubt..."
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A Letter of Contempt;"..The result? A child - the only one who matters in this equation, not You, not I, nor the Mother; my cousin - spent three (plus) days without proper, adequate care - did this under your supervision! We will not bother exploring that which is broken..." -
The Offender - 3"...physically, cognitively, verbally - in truth, he has become accustomed to it, expects - given enough time - to offend. So inherent is it in the who, the what, he is - others expect him to do the offending for them He offends you know?..." -
Words for a Friend - II"...packing smokes one at a time, thinking of what might be about to be - what we worked these seven months for; me fighting the establishment that stole my bone, you quietly offering friendship, support, a smile and a laugh when I had none to give..." -
Fragment - Silence III"...The radio screams 1:59 AM and Brahms's cello threatens to wake the neighborhood - it matters not..."
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Words - III"...Once written, said, they become lost to the vacuum of space - of time; owned now by others, lost to the speaker. Words - they float endlessly for others to read, to hear. Given out they are not yours, not secure..."
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Chill.."...Yesterday; heat turned off for the year. Chill, and grey. Today; the cottage on the hill - like the room in his heart - misses..." -
Fragment - Franklin's Dragon III"...Chuckling, remembering the words of one the other day "...build a fire, boy!" bones shuffles to Franklin's Dragon. Doors swung open - ashes, nowhere to go - are shoveled to the side and two logs; wedges; are slipped in facing each..." -
Criticisms"...scribbled unaided, unbidden or requested, alongside the weaker, thinner marks of my pencil; a faded voice crying out to be heard over your absences.. For twenty, more, years your words were the bar to be met..." -
Ascetic of the Heart"...Love of the monastic only tasted by ascetics of the heart. This is the love of the artist for the model, the poet for the Muse. The passion of the soul that permits ecstasy without ever touching. This is how he would Love - the Third Love...." -
The Falcon and (The/Her) Raven"...Knew a Falcon once - swift, like her sisters in thought, deep minded - though not so like those relations - her Sisters. Harder, more somber, alone somehow, born of solitary nature, a Delphian understanding - awareness. Her days spent in the great..." -
A Man"...a man - naked, kneeling, water steaming, rising over thighs and a thousand voices, from a thousand elders ring - answers to the silent questions in his head. "A man is strong, is silent. A man is thoughtful; considerate. A man is quiet..."
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Gone - in Six Parts"...I - I was the one who went through life belligerently screaming at any who would know, would reach out. I was the one who spat vinegar and splinters at everyone; even you..."
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Words II"...in the brightness without, wallowing in the darkness within. muttering polite half-responses to the day; to the neighbor raking down the gravel drive with one hand, reading the paper with the other..."
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Too Little;"...too little - did he tell a Mother how he loved, valued, the things she did, sacrifices made and lessons taught through silent example. gone - too little, too late. too little - did he tell sisters, brothers and cousins how he admired, respected..."
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Being - HumanI am a being - human. -
Matters, Anti and Not"...Living light - Day - tinged with Night - the breathing dark - dyed with day. Each staining the other. Twelve and three - two times on this day And light, exploding with the fury of spring time, rebirth, blinds the night, fades it back..." -
Jewels,"...Living on another coast, another man, another jewel, sapphires in that place. Still, relief in the gel; sapphire, emerald, beryl even. The colors, the gems, they matter not. The relief lies in the milligrams -"
