Archive for December, 2014

perhaps later could have been sooner

Posted in Creative Writing, Reflections on December 31, 2014 by Verge

I arrived at the theater with my ticket in hand

already sold on the show

and with my flask in my jacket

and the movie cued up,

I reclined and sat back to relax.

I never expected I had mistakenly walked into

the wrong place and wrong time altogether,

and to avoid the embarrassment of admitting my mistake,

instead chose to sit there in silence.

It seemed that the usher had not read my ticket

and I had been awfully aloof,

but when I finally pretended  to be enjoying myself,

I found that I was completely lost.

So I slid out of the theater to ask at the booth

if I could please exchange or get a refund,

but they calmly explained that I was too late

and I’d have to settle with what I had bought.



Posted in Creative Writing with tags on December 27, 2014 by Verge

A very close friend once told me

as I stood upon a ladder to replace a fixture

that when, inevitably, I dropped a screw that I would later desire,

I should keep my eyes towards the floor, and not the ceiling.

I could always find what I had mistakenly let go,

and the ceiling would still be there above me.

But if I kept my eyes trained upwards to keep my balance,

I might never find again what I had let fall away.

The Night before Christmas

Posted in Creative Writing, Friends and Family with tags , , on December 24, 2014 by Verge

Tonight my parents come to visit.

We serve dinner and they bring gifts.

Afterwards, my wife hears stories from the source

that shed light on why I am the man I am.

My earliest memories are of passion…

anger and love the same.

They impressed me for a lifetime.

We’ve set up our tree for eight years in a row.

My in-laws just one time.

And as crooked as it may be,

it’s still the warmest thing to me.

The super bowl….

Posted in Daily Pictures on December 24, 2014 by Verge

Because sometimes even if you know how things are going to end, that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride.

Another Winter

Posted in Creative Writing with tags on December 11, 2014 by Verge

I guess I’ll count today as the year’s first snowfall.

It lasted much longer than predicted.

It’s not as cold as I’d expected outside, even with the light wind,

but I’ve got thicker skin now.

Tonight, as I drove home through the approaching nightfall

a young man walked through the path of my car.

He never once turned around to see behind him.

I swerved left, and he right, and I saw the headphones in his ears as I passed.

Looking back, his head was down, engulfed in himself.

I wonder if we’ll ever keep our eyes on the road ahead .


Posted in Creative Writing on December 10, 2014 by Verge

The boxes in my attic prove I’m somehow holding on.

Never for myself, I really don’t think. For someone else.

Someone not yet here.

Perhaps my imaginary grandson to discover one day and put up on a shelf

like I’ve done with a drum stick and the silver dollar that I’d found upstairs

when we cleaned out their house after my grand parents both passed away.

They were probably forgotten up there for longer that I’ve been alive.

I’m not sure what they mean to me, nor what I’ll mean to him.

I think words are worth more than actions anyway, so fuck the common wisdom.

I’d rather have been a writer than a drummer in the end.

The Mends (aka My Blood Will Thicken)

Posted in Creative Writing with tags on December 9, 2014 by Verge

I’ve started, and then unfinished a bunch of posts in the last few months.  A new job derailed me for a while, and I guess it forced me to reassess what really matters.  Oddly enough, that took me away from what I really wish I could do everyday…write.  So, here’s my latest fucking gem.


The pile of shirts with missing buttons was built in my closet over years.

They weren’t old, or broken, or worthless.

Just damaged.

I wouldn’t throw them away for a reason

or donate them;

there was nothing really wrong with them at all,

except that I couldn’t wear them any longer.

They needed mending.

Yesterday, I took out a needle and some thread

to fix the damage that was done

and tried my best to make things look like nothing ever happened.

I guess it looks all right.

I don’t think anyone will notice the stray threads

or my inexperienced hands,

but I will always know which buttons aren’t quite right.


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