•October 24, 2008 • 1 Comment

Silence is not the absence of sound, for every condition in which humans exist has sound. Our very bodies generate all manners of sound.

Silence, rather, is the inability to hear.


If There is Nothing (Poetry, Rough Draft)

•October 23, 2008 • Leave a Comment

if there is nothing

at the end of your day

nothing that sparks your mind

or ignites your spirit


then you have not looked

you have not watched

absorbed by that which was not important

you missed that, which was.


today, I have nothing

no fire, so spark, no light

my eyes have been closed

blinded, by myself

The Wind (Poetry, Rough Draft)

•October 21, 2008 • 1 Comment

wind kisses my jaw

soft brushes

on tingling skin


I want to embrace it

to hold it

return kisses of my own


but I can’t.


so, on those light and brushing kisses

I will subsist


and in the quiet,

when even the wind rests

I shall purse my lips and blow


a kiss on the wind, for the wind

Iteration 1.1

•October 7, 2008 • 1 Comment

There it was again, the twitch, the glimmer, just on the edge of Jacob’s vision. It was as if his field of vision were some great stage upon which his world was playing, but at the edges, where the actors were slipping off stage, the real show was happening. Yet whenever he turned to catch these glimmers, his direct gaze found nothing and he was left with a nagging feeling that he was missing something terribly important. He was missing the Show, and that’s what was really getting to Jacob.

“That’ll be six ninety four.”

“What?” Jacob replied, shaking away the spider webs in his mind for a moment and looking at the girl standing across the counter from him.

“Six. Ninty. Four.” She repeated, gesturing to the chips and beer setting on the counter, in case the over-stressing of each word was insufficient.

“Oh” Jacob replied, fishing his wallet out and trying to focus on the present.

Yet he could see them, the movements, still. Over by the freezer section, near the cheap wine and overpriced candy, something danced just outside his perception. And by the door, in the other direction, the sign warning that ‘closed-circuit cameras were in use’ just barely concealed something beyond. What, he couldn’t tell.

The whole thing had started no more than a week ago, and at first he had dismissed the fleeting figments as the side effects of fatigue and stress. But, instead of dwindling as he had made time to relax and catch up on sleep, they had become more common, with scarcely a few minutes passing between. And, as of last night, the visions were now teasing him in both the waking world and the realm of dreams.

Maybe forty ounces of Milwaukee’s Best would resolve that.

Iteration Zero

•September 16, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Scream if you wish, it will not help. Claw at your eyes with dirty nails, smash at your ears with fists turned hammers. It will change nothing.

You need not see, or hear, or even feel. Your damnation knows no such boundaries.

It is your prison without walls, your nightmare from which you cannot wake.

It is your damnation.

Prepare for it.

Back in Black

•September 12, 2008 • Leave a Comment

Been thinking about writing and what I want to do with this blog alot. Come back on monday to see what happens.

I Saw (Poetry, Rough Draft)

•September 2, 2008 • 1 Comment

I saw an Angel the other day…

Roasting on a spit…

And I thought…

I bet they taste like chicken.