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Solitary World | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2015/02/01/solitary-world

A public place to practice. February 1, 2015. February 1, 2015. T H I S is not a thought,. Not a memory,. Not a picture,. These are words,. Curved lines that twist. On a page,. On a screen,. That represent a sound,. That when strung together represent a word. That when strung together represent…. Something eternally fleeting,. A flashing moment of experience. These lines won’t show you my midnight sky. With it’s cloud shrouded moon. And scattered crystal stars. You won’t know my rising dawn,. You are com...

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July | 2015 | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2015/07

A public place to practice. An Older Man’s Prayer. July 26, 2015. July 26, 2015. Lord, let me age gracefully and gratefully. Let me slip slow and soft into senescence. Let my age be my age. And my life wrap round me,. Fitting me closely and comfortably like my favorite shoes. Let me not chase young men’s goals. The accomplishments of my youth were of my youth. Let me, instead, know the victories of a life lived to this point, and the victories beyond, as they come. But against the ills not the ill. My wo...

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An Older Man’s Prayer | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2015/07/26/an-older-mans-prayer

A public place to practice. An Older Man’s Prayer. July 26, 2015. July 26, 2015. Lord, let me age gracefully and gratefully. Let me slip slow and soft into senescence. Let my age be my age. And my life wrap round me,. Fitting me closely and comfortably like my favorite shoes. Let me not chase young men’s goals. The accomplishments of my youth were of my youth. Let me, instead, know the victories of a life lived to this point, and the victories beyond, as they come. But against the ills not the ill. You a...

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A Moment at Night | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2014/11/17/a-moment-at-night

A public place to practice. A Moment at Night. November 17, 2014. It’s dark when I get home. The sun set long since. I open the door and rise from the car…. I’m held by this night. For a little while. The wind hisses through the dying leaves. It sounds like the pages of a thousand books turning,. Like sleet sheeting against glass. Leaves scurry across the drive. To and fro in the changing wind,. Like ghosts late for appointments. The sky is so black it almost swallows the stars. For a little while. You a...

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Man of the South | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2014/11/02/man-of-the-south

A public place to practice. Man of the South. November 2, 2014. I am of the South. Rooted in the rich dark soil,. The hard clays,. The deep swamps,. The pluff mud,. And sandy shores,. And the hard granite of high mountains,. Like the tobacco and cotton,. The sweet onion and low country tomato,. The rice, indigo and sorghum of present and past. Birthed and raised in the warm, heavy air,. Redolent of azalea and magnolia,. Pork barbeque and Beaufort stew, and sweet tea,. What is the South? New built cities,.

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August | 2014 | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2014/08

A public place to practice. August 13, 2014. Clouds cover the moon tonight. Borrowed light from borrowed light. The sky has weight tonight. Weight upon the eyes. Tangible weight upon the thoughts,. Upon the memory of infinite starlit skies. Strangely, I rise up. I am lifted past the weight. The shroud wrapped sky. Steve Rose's Blog. Lemanshots - Fine Pictures and Digital Art. MICHAEL T. COE. Urban po'E.Tree(s). Shawn L. Bird. Welcome to the home of the POET and MASTER STORYTELLER - Alexander Thandi Ubani.

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Another Autumn | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2014/09/30/another-autumn

A public place to practice. September 30, 2014. But nibbling with tiny teeth. The county fair always brings the chill,. Dragging winter slowly behind like a carnival trailer. Lights and music and carny barkers,. The sizzle and smell of all things fried,. Prize winning animals,. Pies and amateur art and firemen showing off their big red truck. Autumn arrives with a sideshow. The trees settle in again,. Turning to the long sleep. With brilliant blazes of beauty. Stark limbs reach high into colder nights.

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November | 2014 | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2014/11

A public place to practice. A Moment at Night. November 17, 2014. It’s dark when I get home. The sun set long since. I open the door and rise from the car…. I’m held by this night. For a little while. The wind hisses through the dying leaves. It sounds like the pages of a thousand books turning,. Like sleet sheeting against glass. Leaves scurry across the drive. To and fro in the changing wind,. Like ghosts late for appointments. The sky is so black it almost swallows the stars. For a little while. It&#8...

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March | 2015 | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2015/03

A public place to practice. Old Boxer Love Song. March 5, 2015. The old boxer stands in the ring. He sways a bit. There are scars,. Old battle wounds,. And bruises that are slow to heal. Slower these days than when he was young. His skin is rougher,. Than it once was. He’s not as fast. Slower these days than when he was young. He stands in the ring. He returns to the ring,. He makes his stand in the ring. He can’t win in the locker room. March 2, 2015. March 2, 2015. In the corners,. In the shadows,.

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Raw Heart | cuhullen

https://cuhullen.wordpress.com/2012/08/19/raw-heart

A public place to practice. August 19, 2012. August 19, 2012. That’s how I was born. My heart was created raw,. From our first breath,. Cascaded into the world. And the world cascaded back. Open to every touch and sensation, every beat expanded us outward. Like sunlight on our raw hearts. Sunlight burns as well as warms. Tiny cuts and gaping wounds. At some point I began to make my armor. Carefully (though unconsciously) crafted,. Soft and supple as fine leather,. A case to stop the wounds. I read it and...