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Entries From the Farmhouse: The Reading

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Saturday, March 7, 2015. And sometimes I dream. Of being asked to read my poetry. At a very fine college. I am picked up at the airport. Or the train station. Because of my poetic. Disposition or for fear of flying. By a young poet too. Who is full of nothing. But little bits of beauty. I enjoy the car ride. I look out and see the landscape. I even think of a few lines. And jot them down. They will make a fine poem someday. I am well received. By the muffled voices as I pass.

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Entries From the Farmhouse: Tossed

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Saturday, March 7, 2015. By the great wave. It has thrown me. But I do not. Its waters into my mouth. I cannot fill it. Deposits in the branches. Of the lungs and. Brittle stars have taken. I am as indistinguishable. As a shoal to a boat. When the tides change. My bones bleach like shells. Poking through the sand. My heart cannot save it. Nor can I fill or hold it. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Barrow St. Review. Words With No Names. View my complete profile.

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Entries From the Farmhouse: July 2015

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Saturday, July 18, 2015. I do not understand your patient. Your image in the unemotional. Of the quick tempered pioneer. Changing into sand into. For the gullible ideals. Able to sew a few days of fabric together. Saturday, July 4, 2015. Someone who walks around without shoes. Pulveratricious - Covered in dust. Dorty - portly, obese, fat, plump. Gussock - a gunnysack or a Russian sock. Slaney - cinema or a play house. Balatron - The center of a gala. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

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Entries From the Farmhouse: September 2014

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Sunday, September 21, 2014. It was nature repeating itself. The rain began to fall. I forgot you were in it. It was that you. Were not yet a something. Regardless we wouldn't encourage others. We even left instructions. On how not to do it again. How we were setting the stage. That it would be awkward. Tapping the mic to set up the awkward. Look and awkward laugh. Whose intent was to relieve. And to further set up. Something that wasn't expected until. We were actually doing it.

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What religion can learn from science | Rusty's Blog - Mormon Conversations

http://mormonconversations.com/blog/2011/01/25/what-religion-can-learn-from-science

What religion can learn from science. January 25, 2011. Middot; 0 comments. Appetite. That’s what seems so prevalent in the world of science and so often lacking in religion, the appetite to constantly learn more, to not be satisfied with what we have, to continuously search, ponder, and strive to increase our knowledge and understanding. How often do we experiment upon the word of God? How often do we take those experiments so seriously that we make a study of them? Joseph Smith once said “Thy min...

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Rapture Ready | On the origin of specious

https://theoriginofspecious.wordpress.com/2011/05/15/rapture-ready

Just another WordPress.com site. On the origin of specious. Tags: belief in public life. End of the world. 8230; in rush the virgins. Signs of the End Times →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. Join 1 other follower.

ctillona-beleve12.blogspot.com

Entries From the Farmhouse: Stalling for Time

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Saturday, August 8, 2015. Larry was a fine cop. Until he got beaten up by Ramona. He'd always come into the bar. And just sit there after that. After a long week and a. Long night of just sitting at the bar. I asked Joe to go over to Larry. Why do you want me to go over to Larry? I don't know, to cheer him up." I said. He's just been coming into this bar. For this past week and just sitting there the whole night." I said. So have we." he said. He moved to Montana.".

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Entries From the Farmhouse: March 2015

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Saturday, March 7, 2015. The poem arranges itself. It is in first person. It is entitled poem. It has a color. A face that looks the other way. It is from a book of poems. It slips outside when you are not looking. And lives another life. It is in time. It does not mock words. It is limited and repetitive. But it unravels in front of a theater. And throws on a scarf. Lives on an island. At the end of a century. The word noodle makes it sound silly. In a rather other worldly.

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Entries From the Farmhouse: April 2014

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Entries From the Farmhouse. Thursday, April 10, 2014. Care less about you or me. They do not populate our dreams. Like we may think:. I am thinking of one episode. Where my mother, a shade,. Lays down on her side of the bed,. Crying silently in her room,. With her flowered night shirt on. While I a child, calls, "I love you". To the darken face. That rises like she used to do. With the same weight I remember. Why would anyone do that? And as some may watch,. The magnificent boob tube of oblivion.