Archive for the Tag 'loathing'

Idle hours

Night falls
And the door of
Loneliness
Opens once more
Wandering thoughts
Leading deeper
Endless hours
Pass by idle
Tears born of
Frustration
Wanting so much
To believe
While truths falsities
Ebb and flow
Raging as the sea
To shed tears of happiness
Heart swollen with joy
From the gift of truth
Another should bestow
But what illusions spring
From a bounty of words
While reading the pages
Of one’s very soul
A beacon in the darkness
Wrapping round [...]

Filed in poetry No Responses yet

Truth Defined

If I hadn’t
Loved him
So
Much
My loathing
Wouldn’t run
So
Deep

Filed in poetry 3 Comments so far

Dear God,

It was an absolute accident that I happened upon such wickedness, disguised in the Turner Classic Movie catalog. Or was it?
An advertisement for acclaimed feature films that grabbed my attention. And so I began to browse the images of the available DVD’s. It was a strange, almost eerie image that I was drawn to; the [...]

Filed in Through my Eyes, letters, prose 7 Comments so far

Means to an end

With old patterns faltering in the wake of time, serving him less and less; desperation creeps, then slowly sets in.
Searching for something real to cling to; in a world of illusion and cheap parlor tricks; of which he created and has always dwelled.
Better to be an imaginary somebody, than a real no body; his platform, [...]

Filed in prose, short stories No Responses yet

Letter to Ophelia No.1

Dearest Ophelia,
It has been so long since we sat and talked. There once was a time; long, long ago, when there was nothing we didn’t share. Two young girls; hearts brimming with hopes, dreams and silly fears, of that which was unknown; much that we only imagined, some truths that even now are difficult to [...]

Filed in letters No Responses yet

Sunday Scribblings

#138 – Grateful
I never understood how it was that he could wake up in such a foul mood. Before his feet even hit the floor he was growling at the world; as if being given another day was somehow a curse he was forced to endure. He loathed life; I truly believe that now, [...]

Filed in prose No Responses yet

Witching Hour

She sat in darkness before a blank screen; mind numb from endless thoughts turning, as her entire world had become since his departure. Her abysmal writing proof that mediocrity is alive and well in a world that has forgotten what great literature is about; his words slashing like swords, haunting her day and night, blocking [...]

Filed in the hyena No Responses yet