A cat sat on my garden wall. Its eyes burned like a fire. I watched it nearly half an hour, Then off it quickly ran. I sat awhile, with curtain drawn, My life upon that wall. The cat was gone, still I stayed on. It's strange how life seems planned.
Category: Verse
Inspiration
I'm curious to know where other writers find their inspiration. I find I gain inspiration from a variety of sources. Sometimes writing inspires me, sometimes situations in life, sometimes just a snippet of dialogue from a play, TV show, or movie that gets stuck in my head. Where do you find your inspiration?
In a Restaurant
The cook smiles at an entering guest, taking short orders all the while. Two policemen sit, enjoying their coffee, dismissing thoughts of outside crimes. A young man orders a burger to go. He'll soon hitch a ride to another town. I sit back and watch as the rain outside makes rings in tiny pools of … Continue reading In a Restaurant
The Girl in the Well
When she grew up she could not be in cramped places, like her mother's walk-in closet, or the space between her aunt's house and the garage. Sometimes, in a theater, in that moment of darkness before the movie flickered on, she'd feel her throat tighten, and sweat begin on her forehead, and she'd think back … Continue reading The Girl in the Well
Oscar Wilde
I can't recall exactly when I first discovered Oscar Wilde's preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray, but I cannot think of a single piece of writing that's had more of an impact on my development as a writer. I have yet to find a more concise set of principles on art in general, and … Continue reading Oscar Wilde
If
If I am just an actor And all the world's a stage Should I be content to know The lines upon the page? And if I'm just an animal Held within a cage Would I be shot down if I Someday break out in rage? Would the world just stop and stare If I weren't … Continue reading If
No Room for Heroes
No beach to play on Since you are gone No field to run in I'm all alone No holding hands While the movie is on No room for heroes Now that we're grown No land of make believe No Mouseketeers No Sesame lyrics To plague our ears No snow at Christmas Santa has gone No … Continue reading No Room for Heroes
Prisoner
Helpless, I feel out of luck, for now my friends have gone away and took with them the only key. My only hope quick passed me by an hour past and now I stand and beckon for release. Outside my walls I see passers-by, pedestrians in a world of freedom, bystanders, petitioners, but no one … Continue reading Prisoner
Four Poems
Latenight Specters Barefoot man in the restaurant, his voice knows the names of all who pass him by. Older man than me, his way is not secure, but no one's ever is. Shoeless friend, to all but me knows more of life than I could ever hope to, not because he's lived it any better, … Continue reading Four Poems
The Hero’s Passage
Darkness falls upon the streets. Another night in the cold, windy city. The hero's footsteps fill the air as silence, broken, falls into the shadows and waits with anxious claws ready to reclaim its prize. A distant whine, a railroad whistle, meets the hero's ear and brings on the intense feeling that he isn't alone. … Continue reading The Hero’s Passage