Bleeding Ink #1206

Three hundred thousand miles

And the meter runs …

Dust on your shoes

The dreams


You’re building –

The weight

You carry –

This old house

Gets so worn down

It’s morning


You feel

You’re already

Out of time –

Feel the weight on your


Feel the darkness cloud the sky

A hundred days of rain

And it’s alright –

Image origin unknown


Letters to a Nurse #17



My home

My love

My heart

She walks-

She walks

The light

It follows her every move

While others say

“Did you see

It’s all there

In my story.”

The world now lives

In a very real “status quo”

A newsfeed with anything but news.

Everyone’s soul is for sale


I pulled the plug

I cut myself free

Freedom is peace

My soul

My home

My love

She walks

And the light follows

Her every move

And in the night –

(for her eyes only)

We have no stories to tell

No souls to sell.


We packed our dreams last night

We got high

On the afterthought of life

And living light

It seems

we live on the edge

And carry the weight

Through to the end

Walking in the last past

Hands tied

In between


status’ so high

news stories

With new horrors everyday

We forget the source

And the good words – to keep the darkness at bay –

The words we forget to say –

Another soul

For sale

She said she’s distant at best

She gave it all

Forgot to refill

She lives in and out of quotes

Forgot how to feel what’s real

Back and forth between

The alters

She’s bleeding

Right before the lord

And she’s going to bleed

Until she can’t hold the blade


Bleeding Ink #1,178

Tongue tied

It’s always something

We did

The earth shakes

It’s always something

They did

Life is fleeting

Is this worth it

In the end

Big checks

With numbers

To the zip codes

Run as deep as the roots

As deep as belief

Who controls the increase

When I walked you home

We kissed as the train passed

Now it’s stalled on the tracks

Whatever they say

Whatever they say

Let the storm pass

It’s their last breath

Hold your breath

It’s getting harder to breathe

Whatever they say

Whatever they do

Whatever we are

We are here

Beagle in the City #199

Ethan: we’re bringing mom lunch…

Simon: Are you sure mom works tonight? This is taking forever.

Ethan: yes.

Simon: How do you know this is the right work?

Ethan: It’s right.

Simon: Let me call her.

Simon: Hello, hospital? Put mom on the fone, this is of an emergency.

Mr Responsible 

Growing up is weird. You’ve spent your entire childhood being told to  go outside! Don’t sit in front of the TV!  Do something productive! Now you’re an adult, you’ve paid your bills, you’ve got your groceries, going OUTSIDE costs money…it flips. The responsible, Productive thing becomes staying inside and watching Netflix. Hey, you paid the bill. It’s ok. If you go outside it’s going to cost you three months of Netflix…

And face it, if you go outside and play with a stick and climb on swing sets you just end up in prison.

I struggle with this all of the time. I feel like I should be doing something… if I’m reading I feel like I should be writing, or cleaning, or going out and  doing the mysterious Productive…

My wife is always reminding me, it’s ok to sit down and relax. Cook inside, work-out inside and being Productive is taking on a whole new meaning as an adult. Just don’t be TOO productive…

Hey, it’s not my fault the price of college increased over 500 percent and text books shot up 1000 percent since the ’70s. How can you afford college for your kid? You can’t even afford it for yourself!

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m just a really young old man. I’m not going to have any more apps on my phone. I’m not learning another techno gadget. I can’t- I’m out and not in a good way. I don’t have anymore energy to learn another word processor or app. 

Face it. The only reason FB is still here is because it’s integrated itself within our lives, like Kudzu. Or that third wheeling friend that shows up in all of your photos but you’re  not really sure when you became close. You use fb to sign in and out of everything. It forced you into a marriage you’re not that proud of. And it knows all of your dirt. 

I don’t even have Snapchat. I deleted it for storage space. Why do I need an app that allows me to send text and pictures? Don’t I do that with messenger and my phone already? 

Remember Skype? Whatever happened to that poor thing? Somewhere out there is a little green light saying you’re logged on. It’s just hoping you’ll come back. Also, it probably still has all of those messages you forgot to delete from drunken frat houses. 

Which is probably why someone created Snapchat. . . 

These days we have to constantly upgrade and relearn everything every other  year. I don’t ask for much… just a nice laptop, like a Dell. Remember those? One that will outlive the expiration date on the credit card I used to pay for it. 

A picture of my much older self…

Writer’s Log #15

So I took my wife to see David Sedaris for her birthday. 

She had mentioned him years ago and asked me to get his autograph since she had to work. 

I couldn’t get it back then. 

But he was at Alabama Booksmith in Birmingham. 

They’re a little bookstore with nothing but  signed first editions. 

Awesome place. 

And I thought, hey why not surprise her with this book signing…

I was originally going to just ask her to dress up and then drive her the 87 miles or so…and surprise!

But then my air went out in my car…

After I had done 600 dollars worth of work to it. 

So I thought again…

I better tell her WHY we’re driving so far. 

Or just take her car. 

But then there are all the people that will be there. 

When you work with people everyday- people other than your own people- are the last people you want to be peopling with. 

So I kind of mentioned we were going to see him. 

But she didn’t realise we were getting copies of his new book- along with Ariel Levy’s book.

And he did a reading. For about an hour I guess…it was great. 

And hilarious. 

But no pictures. 

Which is fine. Selfie nation get over it. We got to meet the man. 

I’ll never forget it. 

I always celebrate through the entire month of June.

That way she gets a lot of presents all month, broken up over weeks. 


I got her a cake. 

A Mad Hatter cake. 

I drew it and Simon made it. 

He even wore a little apron…

Not really. 

I thought of it and asked a bakery type person to craft it out of the fires of Mordor for me. 

Now we have cake. 

But I’m afraid to cut it….

Maybe I can get Simon to cut it.