Originally posted on In mind and out:
I invited inspiration to come sit with me in my living room but instead she climbed…
Author: saynotoclowns
Devastated by WP talent on a daily basis, I'm grateful for the connection and the inspiration and just having some gosh darn fun with a creative outlet. If only there were more time...
she put on her headphones and walked the universe…
she had an assignment, of course. And that is what she did when she was struggling with her writing.… Read more she put on her headphones and walked the universe…
that’s quite a promise
(Hello anyone who is reading. I was going to finally write something awe inspiring about my absence lately, then… Read more that’s quite a promise
Just Because
I have writer’s block. And other things happening that have kept me from here. But I was reminded of this… Read more Just Because
riding with you
Yesterday, while I was on Facebook in my usual love/hate Facebook angst, a friend shared a video which reminded me… Read more riding with you
silence – person of interest
serenitise my perspective catapult me gently into the peace between lengthening shadows
“declare that space…
that hauntingly beautiful space is yours”, he mournfully willed her to understand. The bright lights were off, but he… Read more “declare that space…
the clown shall remain nameless, cough
the falls and the rises the contours of surprises the weeds in their guises… growing inside of me at… Read more the clown shall remain nameless, cough
insomniatic fluid
A few years late, I have just discovered these beautiful recordings of Whitacre’s experiments with virtual choirs. I saw his… Read more insomniatic fluid
not sepia
Midnight: she passes the mirror in the hall on the way to the bathroom. It’s dark. But light reflects from… Read more not sepia
but first
the snow covers her stepped thoughts overnight. (The ones leading to that door.) Now she walks across her floor… Read more but first
ash globe
“Please, don’t shake that. Please, please just put it down…” His bewildered tears, her pain-dyed self, folded downward, to the… Read more ash globe
She has a stash of favourite shells on her favourite beach
“the cure for anything is salt water – tears, sweat, or the sea”. – Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen)
Sugar, sunshine and stuff
So this intriguing wordsmith Watt, who throws out such thought provoking, beautifully hued lines from his piers, has so kindly nominated… Read more Sugar, sunshine and stuff
prologue (part six)
“It was a dark and stormy night.” They started laughing. It was, actually, a beautiful day, but she began to… Read more prologue (part six)
hush (part five)
His heart obeyed. Rather automatically – hushing as he so carefully tore a little more, reluctantly disturbing the perfect roundness,… Read more hush (part five)
Interlude (part four)
(It just occurred to him he had been hearing it wrongly. “Deadlines again”.* Deadlines. Not, dead lines. He laughed. It… Read more Interlude (part four)
“…namesake out of reach…” her father used to call her the little diving girl. a misheard lyric. like her, she felt. (part three)
She was so happy she finally had her driver’s license. But she wasn’t going to drive around looking for things… Read more “…namesake out of reach…” her father used to call her the little diving girl. a misheard lyric. like her, she felt. (part three)
in a quiet corner
O burdens, I see you looking at me wondering what I will do with thee you getting back to the… Read more in a quiet corner
ellipsis (part two)
Staring at the blank page he wondered about the tiny tear, (it was perfectly round), and how it got there.… Read more ellipsis (part two)
to whom it may concern, hot tea vending machines. I repeat. HTVM. (part one)
this may/may not become a bigger story. ~ the night sky here was like nothing else she had seen. Childish… Read more to whom it may concern, hot tea vending machines. I repeat. HTVM. (part one)
“sent from a maple tree”
An accidental, gorgeously haunting, find today
5o words
Dolefully, she, sitting down, putting her ear buds in, not getting to the end of the song, knowing where… Read more 5o words
the longing of particles
It was always slipping between the pillows. Beyond my inhale. In the wringing time of night, for the life… Read more the longing of particles
VBA
Thanks to EC for this nomination for the Versatile Bloggers’ Award. I still love these names…I wonder what the award ceremonies would… Read more VBA
Assiduous Respiratory Therapy (take two)
She drew back the curtains with all the care that wasn’t in the world. She had to keep trying. To restart… Read more Assiduous Respiratory Therapy (take two)
once upon a time, in a galaxy really close to home
Brown. Why is this brown? This does not go with the other vacuous colours, it’s clashing. Down. Why is this… Read more once upon a time, in a galaxy really close to home
anamnesis (revisited, no pun intended)
pebbles in knees blood drips in degrees depending on motion and height of the trees in ways so undaunting and… Read more anamnesis (revisited, no pun intended)
she had her grandmother’s laugh (revisited)
“Nan! I woke up from a dream where I was looking at the postcard you sent me, and the subject… Read more she had her grandmother’s laugh (revisited)
waiting for the second paragraph
“There’s a season for everything” but o, how greedy, Mourning, the way you force your choreography on our dances and… Read more waiting for the second paragraph
small-fonted moment
She admired him as they stood on the bridge – one of their favourite haunts – puzzled, once again, by… Read more small-fonted moment
it was the music, wasn’t it?
She really did laugh pretty hard, and she was pretty sure those adverbs were completely necessary. Why was she thinking… Read more it was the music, wasn’t it?
Such a beautiful and balmy night to be inspired and open this draft page. Naturally, I sat thinking for a… Read more
(re-posted in honour of the passing of a young friend)
what a recondite day for a funeral the sky the colour of wind with it’s abstruse way of connecting and… Read more (re-posted in honour of the passing of a young friend)
olio
Her fingers were sticky from the grapes she could not stop eating, but really, it was the reminiscing. She wasn’t… Read more olio
Artist appreciation
A lot of you will know the work of Australian blogger, Steve Simpson: inconstant light – slow time and the… Read more Artist appreciation
carol(?)
“how silently, fool me not, tv” the silence leaves not thus. the screams commence scratching the fence and grief hijacks… Read more carol(?)
innominate
She didn’t know his name. He couldn’t remember it either. Well, not his real name. His parents never used it.… Read more innominate
untitled heart whispers
oh please please help me push broken sentences, how did we get here the empty arms of so many… Read more untitled heart whispers
in honour of a birth (revisited)
Heaven takes a breath then breathes out Love, a Child wakens. Bows of Colour whispered as the air filters… Read more in honour of a birth (revisited)
there’s a season
Spotifying silences most salient playlist preambles this poignant pinpoint of poly- arcs’ pensivity. ’tis the season! the clown rebukes itself… Read more there’s a season
chapter 51 or something
He came through the door and she wasn’t surprised. Whenever she was struggling to arrange her alphabet, he would appear.… Read more chapter 51 or something
When Hindsight Comes A-Calling
Originally posted on Fitful, Fearful, Phantasmal:
Hindsight knocked. He brought Bravado, And close behind, Blame did follow. I invited the First Then…
just when you think your ducks are… (revisited)
philosophise me unhelix my mind and then chastise me rhyme my poses retime my proses snap my beak rethorn the… Read more just when you think your ducks are… (revisited)
it was Friday. she made a list for him. lists are not her thing (part C)
one sweet potato and one eggplant, listed after the fact of purchase one notepad one pencil one cup of Russian… Read more it was Friday. she made a list for him. lists are not her thing (part C)
this zipper…
that we are each tooth an infinite word unconscious and inherently reaching. devastating, jagged edges formed of unhearing, the… Read more this zipper…
sacred susurration
sifting spurious screams “sacramental”. Tender Word. Sanctuaried.
he called her thursday (part B)
How I long to write you in all of your shifting but its interminable nuance is impossible to pin down… Read more he called her thursday (part B)
WordPress Anniversary… holy…
Here we go, just doing our thing. Living in bewilderment as we bump into each other stepping out of time… Read more WordPress Anniversary… holy…
