The Hunger. {poetry}
I remember the
bed-and-breakfast crawl
we made visiting New England
in late fall of the festival trees,
the first snow of Vermont
outside a barn-turned pub.
Take Off Your Mask And Show Me Your Soul.
The masks may have been a coping mechanism, to help shield you from a confusing world, but ultimately they are a cage. They are there to corral that spark of exuberant life that just doesn’t quite meet society’s standards of acceptable. They separate you from the aliveness inherent in your own soul.
Saint Jagger: The Gospel According To Mick.
December 7, 1941 may be my country’s Day of Infamy, but my personal DOI took place 31 years later, on July 9, 1972. This was the day I was supposed to be at St. Louis’ Kiel Auditorium with my friend Alice for a performance of The Rolling Stones. The operative phrase, here, is supposed to ...
The Transformation Of Amy Lunaro: Chapter Twenty Nine. {fiction}
She felt comfortable, standing there naked in body and mind, talking to him. It felt as if who she was right at that moment, not who she could be, was enough. And while he was attractive, he wasn’t one of those devastating men who had a waiting list of women.
How To Not Miss the Train Carrying Your Dreams & Opportunities.
By Genevieve DuBois
A Love Letter Of Gratitude To My Eyes.
I am incredibly grateful that I have the privilege and honor of witnessing my beautiful daughters evolve and explore their lives. I am able to play with them and watch them learn, delight in their smiles, laughter and all their forms of expression. I look into their eyes and experience the ...
