In Light Then

morning-desk

The harsh eager light of morning
spilled through the glass,
an amplified cascade
across the desk,
highlighting
every speck of dust
every scratch of the wood
every fissure of imperfection,
that makes beauty
just by being.

 

 

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Review: Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

If I had read this book twenty-five years ago or fifteen years ago or perhaps even five years ago, I do not think I could have appreciated how monumentally predictive this book is for having been published in 1953.

It is frightening how well Bradbury foresaw the future that is now, with media and entertainment and our whole society moving toward the shallow, politically correct and empty run-to-keep-from-thinking gratification mentality.

We are not yet to the point (for the most part) where books are a forbidden object and burned once discovered, but it does not feel so far fetched or impossible. In a society that tries to squeeze everyone into a mold of conformity that lacks depth, quality, and contentment, we shall soon reach that point if we do not change our course.

We must burn as illuminators of enlightenment now, before our books burn instead, in the future.

Bravo, Mr. Bradbury. Bravo.

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Review: Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan

Mr. Penumbra’s is one of those books that makes you excited. So excited that you want to force everyone to read it, at gunpoint if necessary, and expect them to love it as much as you, so you can all gush and talk about it together until you collectively tilt the world on its axis.

It’s a book about books. A book about the love of books. A book about the love of the love of books and how that love can exist and coexist and evolve with technology and the future of technology.

It’s a book that can speak of the glorious smell of books and coding in Ruby in the same breath with the total assurance that the two are not mutually exclusive. It’s a book that cheekily lets a Kindle sit side by side with a teetering pile of paperbacks without any animosity. It’s a book about the fusion of all things bright and beautiful and the hidden immortality in the simplest of such.

Read it.

Read it now.

And discover for yourself.

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Flash Flood

sometimes
it comes upon you so fast,
emotion so thick
and heavy
it chokes you,
strangling your air
and your voice
until all you can do
is cry,
weeping uncontrollably
as you reach desperately
for the object
that elicits such feelings -
clinging to
the one that drowns you
in love.

9-24-15

 

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Lost and Found

it has only been two days.
two days
and life is back
to normal.
the world never stopped
spinning
but kept going
round and round
while one life
collapsed and imploded
and was
laid to rest.
the collateral damage
came to work
like any ordinary day,
business as usual,
stiff upper lip,
no sign of the ravages
of grief.
but upon returning from lunch
he held three pink carnations
claimed from his wife’s
grave side
as a piece of her
to carry back
with him
after only two days.

6-30-15

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Holding On

i hold on
although i am no longer sure
to what
i cling.
a piece of paper.
a yellowed doily.
a faded garment.
a memory of a memory,
of a memory.
that i cannot guarantee
is even my own.
i resist the urge to let go,
to put down the burden
of a history
no one will know beyond me.
i have no progeny.
there is no future generation
to pass my torch
on to.
these things i hold dear
will only become
a bargain hunter’s find
in some garage sale
or thrift store
years from now
when i am gone.
yet still i hold on,
the spark of life
defiant
to let the embers fade
before their time
has come.

4/19/15

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Forever Broken

i am forever broken
i am forever broken
yet you love me as i am
yes, you love me as i am.

forever broken
forever broken

for your pieces fit with mine
because we both are

forever broken
forever broken

yes, your pieces fit with mine
for we both are

forever broken.

the cracks and jagged edges
hold a beauty more divine
and when we get together
we solve the test of time.
we see the puzzle’s picture
complete and well designed
for we were broken
for each other
beyond all reason and rhyme.

we are forever broken
we are forever broken

mended and bound
the fury and the sound
our hearts upon the ground
howling as a hound
on the trail of all we’ve found
circling round and round.

we are forever broken
we are forever broken
yet your pieces fit with mine.
yes, your pieces fit with mine.

4/8/15

 

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Lost Traveler

i have wandered
wandered a long and lonely road.
i am a lost traveler
but i know where
i am going.
i am moving ahead
though i may
twist this way and that
turn left and turn right
or spin my wheels
in the spur of the moment.

i have wandered
wandered a long and lonely road.
i am a lost traveler
but i know where
i am going.
people come
and people go
and all the loves
that i have loved
are but the dreams
of fools and madmen.

i have wandered
wandered a long and lonely road.
i am a lost traveler
but i know where
i am going.
and i know where
i have been.
i am a lost traveler
lost in this moment
with you.

 

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The Sickness

languid
listless
nearly apathetic,
i could not decide
what the problem was.
the room,
silent
cold
empty
no longer felt welcoming
no longer felt
like home.

and there it was.

you were gone
and i
was left
homesick.
for your voice
for your touch
for all of you.

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