Tag Archives: writing


Consuming the cascade of inspiration
A lack of emotion,
hopeless goal.
in mind.
Seek intrepid words and write them all.
Clutch digital ideals in impotent spaces.
Space filled with toys, consuming
constant orgasm brain stimulated.
Buzz through,
time to the ultimately unimpressed.
Prompt a word with a picture too,
consume thoughts,
never connect them.
I discover and waste my ideas.
Not a block.
An expletive I toss to the unfortunate
who devours,
my words.
Find what you will,
I escape to find my own.


Technology Part 2

I am thinking about submitting this. This is a sort of rough draft. Any comments, constructive criticism, and feedback welcome!



1. Facebook

2. Twitter

3. Create new gmail???

I didn’t edit

Texting when angry

Furious war

Don’t tell me

Doesn’t matter

4. Delete contacts

did you delete mine?

do you have it still?

One sided argument

Keyboard broken

5. Find f key

Ctrl Alt Delete

The internet can’t hang up on me

But that doesn’t mean you’re listening

is it you?

are you there?

6. Check your facebook later

My pen

While I write upon lonely lines

Eraser marks declare tomorrow’s lies

Saline moments suspended in time

Expressing the emotion I struggle to define

Scratch off lead on white paper

Asking me explain my labors

The way when I write

Script instinctively deciphers

Expression engulfed in

Tiny matters

Come challenge my pen

Loosely grip the piper

Follow my lead

Whispers to my ear verse

Sounding the remorse

The whole stack of papers will surely burn

Clench my chest as the pages turn

Spilling a stack neat with regret

Tell a story most soon forget

My finger skims a parting line

Conclusions astounding

Weighted in time


When I feel like trying something new

My mind falls too


Who will I tell this to

Creative bursts of lusty words

Falling through the back of my page

My hands twitch


Must find something too

Not a single page

Music finds me

Whittle off the edge

My favorite lyrics swimming through my head


Crowd out the rest

Reaching for a meaning

Cruelty and happiness

Head of the game

Put my damn words to shame

Try for a walk

Crisp wind and water tell me


Not my path to be


As a small child the only thing I knew about surgery was that I got a cool present after. A My Little Pony coloring book to be exact. And when i got back to school I would have an awesome new cast for all of my friends to sign and draw pictures on. My mother gave me lots of extra attention that I didn’t normally get and I thought that was just great. I could ask for just about anything I wanted and she would rush to my side. What 5 year old could ask for any better?

I never perceived my predicament as an illness or a problem. No, I was just special. Mom says that almost nobody else is like me. I have a rare disease…a novel, obtuse thing that provides me with all of the attention and presents I could ask for.

Now, six surgeries and decades later the novelty has evolved into a giant pain in my ass. Or leg rather. I have a rare benign bone disorder called Osteofibrous Dysplasia. Up until I was about 18 it constantly grew back resulting in a bowed tibia and a terribly weakened bone. Surgery after surgery was done to try to remove the affected area and it always came back.

Doctors now know much more about the disease than when I was five and strongly recommend avoiding surgery if possible. Would that knowledge have stopped the countless surgeries all those years? Maybe. Am I bitter? I try not to be. It’s difficult to say what the doctors should or should not have done. After all, the tumor spans over 2/3 of my tibia and has resulted in fractures.

Nonetheless, I now need a rod in my tibia to stop the bowing and strengthen my tibia. While I am very glad that much of my daily pain will go away as a result (not to mention the tumor is pretty much gone), I am freaked out! You’d think I would be used to surgery by now, it turns out I am not! Not only do I have the procedure itself to cope with, I will have a six week recovery time. Oh and did I mention I have a three year old daughter?

I have a wonderful husband and family as a support system but I am still worried. I am going to have no control of my life! Well, what books I need to read but that’s about it. Searching online for others stories and how to cope with a rare disorder has been fruitless. I also wanted to know how other parents deal with recovery and still manage a toddler! So I have decided to start a sort of surgery journal. An outlet for my experiences.

My surgery is September 13 and I’m it for the long haul!



Awake through the night

Trembling thoughts of the day

My only solstice

In the dark which I lay


Today or tomorrow

Never find the words

For the darkness that must follow

Oblivious winding turns


The darkness keeps me happy

Far away from the light

But only for forgiveness

Do I seek the night


Dampen the light

So I may find the day

When I no longer fight

The sun’s revealing rays


Humanity: A Sunny Disposition

Humanity: A Sunny Disposition

“Why do I do this to myself every time?”

Absentminded musing

Creeping mental

Eventually verbal



Yes, usually how it started.

Hung over

Dirty station wagon cut her off

“Idiot,” she fumed.

Proceeding to merge at 20 mph

Painfully in the way.

“Can’t even get there without running into them!”


People are nothing.



Raping the land while hoarding self worth.


I remember that attitude

Embraced myself easily

Trusting no one

Hating everyone


“Not today,” she sighed.


Wallowing through endless tasks.

Interacting with souls who have none to bear

“They mean nothing to me,” she said.

Gratitude underserved and politeness poorly spent.


Yet, I give them everything.


Which is better for her?

Trust, hurt, belonging.

Fear, ego, self-preservation.


Start everyday with this question.