She bent over and lit her Marlboro off the stove, inhaling a drag before the image of her mother came to mind. "Memories of home," she thought watching the ash glow red before she set the cylinder against the lip of the saucer she'd been using for an ashtray. The cigarette burned down against the ceramic dish scorching an amber ring into the ( Read more... )

And the sun rose, a million stars fell out of sight. Silken ember highlights adorned the world. Infinity - this congruence, the rising sun, the setting moon; firelight that has bathed away the slicing-silver. A night, one night, and a forever full of nights surpassed by dawn and dawns. For one moment, existence took a breath as time slowly ( Read more... )

I want the smiles of you lovely people.
I'd collect them like ceramic cups
and place them in flash-pan images
across the wall.

Heaven. Are we capable of remembering its boundaries once we cross the line? I didn't think so as I watched his eyes track over my body, heated with lust and love. This new place he had built, a place that reminded us both of pleasure-spent nights elsewhere, held magic too palpable not to recognize. It was fuel and as I stood next to him barely ( Read more... )

There is absoluteness in absence; a pervading characteristic in being truant, and the sudden realization of the lack and then the need. We are the aggregate sum of what we want and what we have. Therefore, even in demand we are completing our nature. There is a nebulous form of totality in every omission ( Read more... )

Almost a year ago ( Read more... )

I apologize. I know it's been quite a while since I posted the last one. Time has been short with all the projects I'm undertaking and writing this is a passion for me well worth the time and investment - not to rush what it is that needs to be said ( Read more... )

I am barely awake from dreaming and maybe that's a good thing as I listen to the sweet song of the birds just outside my window. The breeze that rattles the blinds is cold and humid, swirling around my feet and legs and higher and higher until the wet, earthy smell saturates my skin ( Read more... )

Standing outside the barracks, you realize there are no bunks. You’ve arrived at Stalag 4B during one of the coldest winters in history (1944), and the two small horse-hair blankets you hold, already bug infested, aren’t going to stave off the cold winter nights. You watch as groups of men huddle together, vying for the center of the pile. You’ ( Read more... )

Discovering a talent was often the only thing to keep a Prisoner of War alive. The fact that my grandfather was an experienced jeep driver weighed heavily in his favor. As the S.S. gathered P.O.W's around Mulhberg, they soon realized that there was a huge problem. Those found without inherent usefulness at that time were lined up against a long ( Read more... )