1722 9 8
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Travel into the beautiful swirling being you occupy whenever you get the chance. It's your right to seek the name of the most holy one in your deepest awakening. Then will you most likely find fellow travelers splashing about in their naked auras in…
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172221
|
My name is Lu-chen Wyatt, and I have watched this tomb for seven years with undying loyalty. Tomorrow I am going away, and I wish to set down the story of my leaving and to say goodbye to Set-Yi, whose burial place has been my home for so long.
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172200
|
What a hoot men are. For years I tried to get Jim to share the cooking. This is how that worked. One Monday night I'd whipped up a meal of steak, tossed salad, two veggies, and dessert with coffee. The next day was Jim's turn to cook and he came home
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17221715
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He had coal black hair the day he died. He claimed to be part French, no doubt the offspring of a Swedish girl and a French soldier, although Ole did not mention this.
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1722102
|
Time
Holds
Ultimately
Nothing
Dear
Except
Reunion
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172232
|
One thing about being a musician—more specifically a drummer—struggling against the cost of living—more specifically the cost of living in the Bay Area—is that I will do just about anything to earn money.
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1722135
|
The Fuddy-Duddy Writer does not do wit.
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172240
|
I don’t know what to make of this new territory we have stumbled into neither by accident, it seems, or design. Is there a map to be found?
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1722208
|
Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
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172220
|
They were starting to get winded. The boy, his father and his little brother were hiking up a hill, cutting a diagonal path through hay-colored grass towards an outcrop of craggy boulders below the hill's summit.
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172200
|
Incredibly he began to picture in his mind a scene not related at all to his frenzied search but of a huge plate of apple pie a la mode with the vanilla ice cream melting in streams like cool lava down the side of the pie and off of the plate.
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172210
|
I don't really know, though. I've been locked in a beer cave for the last ten years of my life. I was just let out by some frat boys who were looking for Natty Light.
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172166
|
Little rambling soul,/kind guest, friend: leave me laughing,/pallid stiff, and bare.
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172100
|
As children we invent games and we're really creative. We concoct ridiculous rules and enjoy making adaptations to them. And everything makes sense. Then you grow up, lose creativity. You don't invent games anymore. Recess is replaced with a second…
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172100
|
"What the hell does profligate mean?!" He shouted.
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17211716
|
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1721105
|
"She had been warned." (this started as a fun alien story and then took a human turn.)
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172161
|
Nora never dated Scandinavians.
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1720149
|
Maybe all quarterbacks are shitwads.
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172020
|
The plan was this: We would take our first vacation. My husband and I would take our 2 ½-year-old son Ethan and 13-month-old son Jonas to Mystic, Connecticut, a 90 minute drive from our home outside of Boston. We would stay at the Hilton, which was right near the Aquarium,…
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172062
|
I bought the goldfish at different pet shops out of town, a few at a time, until I had two hundred or more in the freezer.
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172065
|
He checks the bedrooms first,
then the hallway,
followed by the living room
and the bathrooms.
When he can't find you he takes to calling out,
daddy,
I'm sure the neighbors hear.
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172040
|
“Hey,” I begin, a naughty smile breaking across my face before I can get to the punchline, “Want to drive around flipping off anyone with a Romney bumper sticker?”
Kaleb chuckles and beams at me. It seems everyone likes a good girl turned naughty.
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1720114
|
Billy had crystal blue eyes A small mouth And long hair to cover up his Hearing aids. He told me once, with his hands How he liked to submerge His head in water and yell So loud he could feel it. "I can hear myself that way," he…
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172063
|
When the world is quiet, all your thoughts demand attention.
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172032
|
Sometimes you're searching for a family and you don't even know it. Sometimes a family finds you.
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172065
|
They’re persistent, I’ll give them that. They keep coming. And coming and coming.
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1720118
|
In the morning, I lay on my side and ran a finger down the girl’s back, lightly tracing her spine. I remarked on the whiteness of her skin.
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1720109
|
poets can kill, or at least they once could:/
perhaps poems tamed us, if they are any good.
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171932
|
The smell of candy and burn... /A patriotic prose poem for the fourth of July.
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