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The Well is Barren
I have had a few days off of work. Before this, I came up with a great plan in my head of the projects I would work on, new words I would write, manuscripts I would submit. Days have passed and projects have collected more dust and words have vanished. I have gotten good at…
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Poem – Awake
I lie awake at night and during the day and I think of the opportunities I have passed and I have missed. I think of the infinite lives, intersection points and how one small decision, detail, or word changes the path, changes the course, changes who I am. I lay upon the wood picnic table…
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Time
Where has time gone? While I know time itself does not change, only our perception, I must have been asleep for a few days. It is already May and I have not really written a poem or prose in a couple of weeks. I have spent some time in quiet reflection of my past and…
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Essay – What do you do?
What do you do? This is a very common question during our interactions with people. It is most often asked by those we do not yet know, or only casually. Perhaps it is the once in a while haircut. During the customary small talk, this question and one other are always asked in one form…
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Poem – Know Me
Do you know me, or only my actions? Do you know me, or only the empty space? Do you know me, or only the oxygen I consume? Do you know me, or am I only a number? I know me – the person I am now, the person I work to become, the person I…
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Turning 38
I recently turned 38 and life, of course, deviated from the one set in stone paths, the direction at that time I knew was it, I knew was my only way. I am not complaining or disrespecting the station I find myself within. Despite vowing to never remarry, I subconsciously and consciously find myself living…
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The Story of Joline
In 1993, while taking a poetry class at the U of M, I started an epic poem about mankind’s history, called the “Proven Life”. Though it is still not finished almost 20-years later (which seems somewhat appropriate), the central character was a girl named Joline. Over the ensuing years, she has visited some poems, and…