Tag: writing
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Tender Firecrackers
A note from the author to the author:do not be a coward. At what speed do I have to move to outrunwarmth,fading red of pomegranate tree I just noticed,buzzing sounds of carsthat murmur candy-sweet rush into my ears.Where’s the destination for glowing?When looking at my hands means knowing-their brittleness is…
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The Black You Wore By Rock Martinez
In vivid splendor, on the fields where the sun shines brilliantlyYou make your way to the front, aspiring to greatnessAmid the glory, the gore and the toil comes your salvationDeath is a reality that comes to pass. You died in battle dress; you’re laid to rest in your Sunday bestBut…
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Birdwatching
He knows his emotional traumas are safe with me,because he’s one of mineand instead of fussing over him,I dive deep into self-blame.He knows his victim agony is a cancelled show,I sold the tickets and bought them back one by one too.His room has the thickest walls on earth,how else could…
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RNA By Gary Beck
As I rounded first base I felt a tear in my hamstring that shot up my leg with a stab of hot pain. It forced me to slow down, but I had to keep running because I was on the edge of the bubble and was afraid of getting cut…
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The Cathedral Project By Jacob Austin
The town decided it would benefit from a bit of public space, so we began construction on what could best be described as a cathedral. The proper permits were acquired, the space donated by a local philanthropist, and work was quickly underway. First, the existing structures in the area had…
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No Art No Love No Tears
I call life a water tank.It continuously leaks from every little corner:my niece’s love,my mother’s art,my father’s tears when his father passed away.I’m clueless, no one has taught me how to put duct tapes to right places,how to stop things from overflowing,how not to overflow myself.These tiny water drops are…
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Your Favorite Guitar
You strum me with the guitar picks I gave you.I am your audience and instrument.I know all your favorite songs.You love the music we’ve made,Even if you only brought me to a show once.I hear you’re learning new chords,But not with me.Never with me.You say you don’t want to wear…
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Tea with Old Friends By Jonathan Ferrini
It was a weekly treat for me to attend an elegant, afternoon, “High Tea” at the beautiful “Mark Hopkins Hotel” after church services across the street. The “Mark” held a commanding view of San Francisco from its location atop Nob Hill and provided a beautiful view of the iconic bridge,…
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Shouts and Breathes
Doomed to die,I learned to enjoy the sound of explosives.My tears are fireworks,my sorrow’s a guide.The streets are the war scenes andI won’t put up a fight.My thoughts in slow motion,buildings falling apart,your face on the banners,but someone’s tearing it down.And so, it starts,I become the dispassionate observer of your…