Whistling for Moonbeams

I was editing my posts when I accidentally did the stupidest thing. I deleted the post entitled "My Father's Songs." And here ...

A glass door crashes down to the floor and shatters into countless pieces. I fall with the glass door and land, somehow, on top of it. My wh...

"Heaven, perhaps, is what we imagine happiness to be. And hell, the failure of the imagination, the failure of faith, the triumph of fe...

1. Were you named after anyone? From Chanson D'amour (a Lettermen song) and from Vanessa Redgrave, the actress 2. When was the last time...

It's best to be up while the sun is still mild--and newly-risen as she is. It wouldn't do to open your eyes to her glaring rays; thi...

by Rainer Maria Rilke His vision, from the constantly passing bars, has grown so weary that it cannot hold anything else. It seems to him th...

Last book I read: She Flew The Coop by Michael Lee West This book is hilarious, had me hooting with laughter and kicking my heels up while r...

That night creatures were drawn to lights where they could be most easily eaten by other creatures was one of those mysteries that gave her ...

Last Book I Read: Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro I find it remarkable how Ishiguro manages to draw so much emotion with so little fan...

Somewhere between afterimage and stark reality, I bend back into my shadow like a circle that is not yet, reaching for the edge, an attempt ...

It was on a beach that they first met. He preferred it to have been on a busy street or some squalid corner of the city, instead...

Thinking does things to a person. It turns the mind into coils that, in turn, mesh into chaotic swirls that lead nowhere and, so it seems, h...

Is it possible We are more alone than we think: that the angels we were taught to call to in our times of need are no less divine than we ou...

Hey, there! Try going to www.blogthings.com for some fun stuff. You could really get hooked, though. I can't believe I spent 2 hours in ...

Janis Joplin was the eldest sister of Joni Mitchell and Aimee Mann. Tori Amos and Sarah Mclachlan were their cousins, and Loreena McKennitt ...

This is something I wrote for a FICTION class (under Luis Katigbak) reading journal blog. Monday, August 09, 2004 Reading The Locked Room (f...

Joni Mitchell must be the elder, milder-in-temperament sister of Aimee Mann. If I were to put their portraits side-by-side, they would...

Some reviews from my previous blog: February 13, 2007 Lit Geek Update #1 Last book I read: Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami - Poignant with...

It happens, sometimes that I find myself dead and hear only the scraping of spade against smoothed brick, feel only the grainy sand thrown s...

I wrote this for a poetry class: CHAIR Empty now, the chair sits obdurate against the wall. Its carved, drooping arms-- gnarled as the finge...

No need for a title (or: Do they sell these lines anywhere?) The weird thing about getting what you want (and want so badly) is that there...

LAUGHING GAS There will almost always be darkness as you'll be forced to shut your eyes tight like how it is when soap gets in them only...

The smoke from my cigarette rises to the glass table top, forming rings of grey, undulating into bigger circles, centripetal waves, ephemera...

This is the Rilke I fell in love with, the poem that led me to search for his The Sonnets To Orpheus and buy it, no matter what the cost: Yo...

in my mind i curl myself into a tight little ball a fist clenched angry, tight but you become a multitude of red ants crawling all over me g...

Consider the contrast between these two journal entries: May 18, 2004 I do not remember exactly when my fixation with twilight began. The wa...

Listening to Maria Callas sing is a pleasure one has to experience in order to believe. That there is a sensation as intense as the kind tha...

You find your music like you find anything you love for a lifetime: through head-spinningly intense first impressions, deepened by increment...

Your lids fold like sails, noiseless and I know you have left me where I could not follow your breathing steady, rising and falling, waves i...