THERE ARE DAYS WHICH OPEN into unglimpsed circles that inspire and uplift. And there are days which close the heart like a fist. There are days when the angels sing within range of human ear And days when all you…
Category: Writ
My own serious stuff; the craft itself; literary (and authorial) inspiration; the art of reading.
What Do You Say To A Partly Naked Woman?
SHE WAS WALKING UP THE hill toward us through the sea of sprawled bodies surrounding the stage at Laguna Seca Speedway, where some friends and I were enjoying three days of the Grateful Dead and Los Lobos in the summer…
Pithyism #11
TO WRITE WITH TRUTH AND heart, one must be able to see; and sometimes, to not look away.
Tools: Spacejock Software
THIS POST IS BEING WRITTEN in yEdit, one of Simon Haynes‘ many fine Spacejock Software products. He doesn’t know I’m writing it, and until I stumbled across his website I didn’t know he was a famous Australian science-fiction author with…
Reb Drunkard’s Wisdom
THE MAN WITH THE UNWASHED face was dressed in baggy street-person clothes which seemed to cushion the cold concrete beneath him. He was laying in front of the Carl’s Jr. restaurant in San Francisco’s Justin Hermann Plaza one cool night…
O Hamlet! O Holden!
ONE OF THE SPARE JOYS of bohemian pretention is, and perhaps always has been, writing sad poems in the rain, letting each misty drop efface and blur the tortured scribble; pearls of moisture like the very angels’ tears weeping for…
Election Day Haiku
God who hears all, please — Don’t let the idiots win. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.
A Haiku For The SF Giants, After Seeing My First Giants Game Last Night
Tim Lincecum’s face Passionate with the sad news: Strike one. Two. Three. Next!
A Great Line I’ll Have To Work In Somewhere
“IT WAS AT THIS POINT in the narrative when those skilled in the nuances of the oral tradition began chuckling with anticipation.”
Haiku: First Rain
6:30 a.m., And behind my coffee cup, Earth sips her new skies.
The Shape Of Time
WHEN I WAS YOUNGER THAN I am now, I used to think Time was arranged in neat little blocks as on the calendar. The “bottom of the month” felt like the bottom of the month, and I delighted in each…
Prosatio Silban’s Table Tips: Place (A Literary Amuse-Bouche)
SOMEONE ONCE ASKED PROSATIO SILBAN his thoughts on “presentation;” i.e., how a dish should look when it leaves his kitchen. The Cook For Any Price thought for a moment before replying. “I suppose it depends on your notion of what…