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Poem – Word
The very moment you prepared for, going through each detail, emotions and movement, finally finds you, the actors in their place, face to face with what has been consuming your thoughts – and the words have left.
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Poem – How Many
Each day rolls into the next nothing has changed except the distance between the smile and the struggle within the person becoming more of a shell… How many more days can I keep this going? Inside I am me, but fear it has to be repressed, kept quiet and hidden, exposed through what others want…
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Poem – Coffee and Cigarettes
From a series of poems and prose about Joline Cigarette smoke settles between us a soft crackle with each hit between each sip of coffee. An ash falls from yours while we discuss literature, Chaucer, and final exams. Looking back, we were just kids racing toward adults from one credit to the next. Concerned with…
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Poem – Coffee and Cigarettes
From a series of poems and prose about Joline Cigarette smoke settles between us a soft crackle with each hit between each sip of coffee. An ash falls from yours while we discuss literature, Chaucer, and final exams. Looking back, we were just kids racing toward adults from one credit to the next. Concerned with…
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New Art Project – Beneath the Remains
I have some new poetry posted over at Beneath the Remains. Of Tide and Time, by Hanakia Zedek What I Create, by William Ricci This is Life, by William Ricci Beneath the Remains is about: “Here we focus on raw images and words from the ruins, from the real world that is often swept away,…
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Why do We Fight?
Clouds part and the setting sun burns the last rays into my eyes before disappearing behind the trees. Such balance as each of these systems, including my just sitting here, has a role. Finally the path I am on makes sense. Pieces from everywhere scattered to the wind are falling into place, and for the…
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Poem – Circle
The path I now walk circles and oscillates between two lives I struggle to be a part of I struggle to define. Each has merits and fulfillment each brings me closer to the being my past and my future conspired to create, so why do I struggle in the present? That life I judge myself…
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Love
Here I am at a local park that has a cafe with local, fair trade coffee. It is Friday evening, the coffee has kicked in, and I am listening to Olafur Arnalds. A wedding is in the beginning stages of setup, and the bridal party is arriving, one and two people at a time. I…
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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…