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She, a poem
Life is a puzzle. No, the whole world is a puzzle. When the puzzle pieces are put together correctly a picture emerges, and the puzzle is solved. Puzzle pieces are not unique, making it possible to complete the puzzle, but obscure the picture when pieces are fit in the wrong place. Just because a piece…
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Three days of our lives, a poem
Sometimes the past will not stay where it belongs. Often we find our thoughts return to past events or experiences, and it disturbs and disrupts our calm. Maybe this means that there is something to be learned from these haunting memories. If only we can separate these recollections from the accompanying emotions, enabling us to…
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You, a poem
When I was young, I was a bastard, and I loved it. I barreled through life often with disdain for others, selfishly seeking my own pleasure and desires. I enjoyed being arrogant, I hated being wrong. I looked out for only me, ignorant, self absorbed and shameless. This little verse deals with that self-concern. I…
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Nail, a short, short, short story
The nail was forged in 1972. At 3 inches long with a flat head it was meant to be used for asphalt roofing. It was dispensed into a bin with a bunch of similar nails and was eventually used by a roofer in Miami-Dade County in sunny Florida. Here it held down a roof shingle…
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Tales from my head 