i am not a poet - name poem
An adventure begins Life continues to roll on Exits quickly approach Xylophonic orchestrations resonate Flames slowly putter out Electricity sparks as our eyes meet Slowly, I fall for you Suddenly, I realize it won’t be Extreme conditions temper the softest of men Now, where are we? Days go by without consciousness Endings are bittersweet New beginnings even more so
i am not a poet - ode to the woman of my dreams
The thing I love about dreaming besides being the hero and being the idealized me is that sweet little slumber you feel the same about me I become the Antony to your Cleopatra you become the reflection to my Narcissus and for one short span of time as the stars flicker above we can be
i am not an essayist - thinking
june 8th, 2012 written in the pews of a church in chicago At the same time, I love and hate thinking. It’s what I do most of the time unless I’m preoccupied, but that usually means nothing gets done and I stay up until 5 a.m., and that just sucks. The problem with thinking is that no matter what I’m doing, I always end up thinking of you. Even when I don’t, I think about...