Category: Uncategorized

  • Tripping in the Dark: Dark Triad of Writing  

    The dark triad in psychology refers to the (considered negative) traits of Machiavellianism, psychopathy, and narcissism. Skillful writing has a bit of narcissism and a tiny amount of Machiavellianism, not psychopathy. I was reading Barthe’s Death of the Author  while considering Nietzsche’s theory on lying when I wrote Death of Strauss.  The struggle of an author to release a piece of work…

  • the way he moves

    It’s his eyes that follow me into a room. Looking at me with awe, lust, and possession. His lips move with talk, more talk, and too much talk.  Just kiss me.  When his face twitches in amusement at something I have done, my heart skips.  Even in his frowns, I am elated. His arms swing in perfect unison to his…

  • Hunger: Conflict in Story 

    In every story there is conflict. Problems need to be solved, clarity obtained, or riddle solved. Not always are these conflicts solved by the end of the story. The seriousness of the conflict creates an interest for the reader. There are varying levels of conflict:  class conflicts, romantic problems, moral dilemmas, or physical challenges for the characters to overcome.  Moral…

  • The world 

    The world exists because of him  But my world has fallen apart  He lives in darkness  Afraid of a shadow  My seeking the sun  Has me Unafraid of blindness  There are words between us  People in the way  Just occupying space weary   of upsetting order–so dearly.  Wind pushes him forward among familiar faces.  All darkened sweetly.  Tide sweeps me out, …

  • Concealed weapons 

    I saw him in a pawn shop on Fifth.    We looked at each other in fascination.    A reflection of each other’s cheap tastes.    I loved the smoothness of his barrel.    He was cold to my eye and warm to the touch.  He belonged to another; a serial number   Told me so.    He wasn’t loaded, empty of all ammunition.     Wanting…

  •  Colossus 

    The mountains cannot hold this colossus  He is mighty and strengthened by resolve  Looking upon tiny people with dismay  As the phoenix glides towards the harbor,  He wonders if this place can hold him  In the land of tea and horsey rides,  He could rust and fall.  The ocean cannot hope to contain the colossus.  It is deep and without…

  • The critic 

    I would be pleased to know him   If his words were true.  I doubt his images.   Does he think about me in those secondhand thoughts?    He speaks of love in his sonnets.  Am I his greatest verse,    His sole muse,  A reason for deceit?  In his faulty poetry, he is verse when I want prose.    Always rhyming without substance.  He…

  • Stranger 

    part one Ports were important for many towns in New England.  Whaling commerce in the 1800s was booming.  The whaling disaster, the Civil War, and the discovery of petroleum marked the end of a prosperous history for many of those towns. But before the end of the golden age, there lived people who depended on the ships sailing into port.…

  • Traitor 

    Unpaved streets were always quiet in the early morning hours as the main street is smoothed over after sundown on Saturdays. Sunday was the day of rest and worshipping of the creator. Shuttered saloons were void of the rowdy customers who passed time in it for six days of the week. The only sound on this early Sunday was the…

  • Hills To Die On 

    These battles I wage  And The tears that are shed  All Belong to me.  I stand against the foe   Battling for my cause.  It is just, so I never pause.  I have died on those hills    And some more over here.   Look, there too…   Have been dead many years   Though you will never hear   I am wounded by your words …