what’s written down. what’s thrown away.

As I attempt to get through the anthology, I'm realizing most of what's included is from over the last three years. So where's the rest? Interesting question. I spent many years as a strictly ink Writer. This was actually a silent protest against publishers, critics, and pretty much the rest of the world. You see, it was critical that I wrote for mySelf and no other. I still believe that once you start creating Art for other people instead of as...

and then i got plagiarized

I kind of figured that once I started posting work all over the Internet I'd get plagiarized sooner or later. The other day I was having a read of other 'Writers' that I've come across since starting my wordly mission back in September. One of the 'Writers' has been posting work over the past few weeks with exact phrases from some of my pieces recently featured here. I think my reaction to the scenario says a lot about who I am as an Artist so...

the silence of love

Something from 2007... as featured in the forthcoming anthology... THE SILENCE OF LOVE I have not spoken for nearly three years now – not since that day. Exiting a crowded airport, unsure of where I was going or where I had come from, two eyes the color of the sky after a storm found me in the bustling crowd. I fumbled to put my passport in my bag without breaking the ocular lock captivating me. It was like seeing land for the first time after...

NUMBER 200!!!!

Today is my 200th consecutive post. That's some shit blog family... To absorb the occasion I had a look at my NUMBER 100 post. I remember waking up that morning and writing the poem I talk about and shared on the day. I didn't end up posting poems every day like I thought I was going to in 2010... but I'm certainly posting a lot more poetry in general. I figure with the anthology coming soon... my poems will have a happy place to live. I liked...

serialized fiction #2 (4 of 4)

‘Drop it man,’ says Jose after Raul asks what harm one dinner can do. ‘Food at the same table ain’t gonna fuck up your plan essay,’ he tells his brother as he re-stocks empty cigarette shelves. Jose is reading The Post and without looking up says, ‘Any female smoking three cigars a day is trouble. You know it bro. Start getting real.’ Carmen is sitting on a bench in Battery Park during her lunch break. She’s situated with her...
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