Spring Twilight West of Chicago

Anybody that passes it is struck by the neon glow. It’s either that or the massive, illuminated, black and white sign against the aged teal siding. It looks like a regular house. While people have seen shadowy figures in the attic windows long after close, it doesn’t stop them from cramming into every last spaceContinue reading “Spring Twilight West of Chicago”

The Edge of the Wood

This is a piece that I wrote and performed at my local open mic night. It took place at a small coffeehouse that I haunt in Illinois, in southwest Chicagoland, in the western suburbs, south of the rivers and canals, and northeast of the westernmost Cook County forest preserves. I went early to work withContinue reading “The Edge of the Wood”

Artem Nephis Animi

Fluffy pillows, twisting darkness that exist as home to Mount Olympus and carrier of Zeus. Orchestrated by Thor to clamor ripples of thunder and summon tines of lightning; bridging our world with Asgard. Paid their due heed by both sky captains and sailors alike; I have sailed through them, swam under them, hiked grumbly amidstContinue reading “Artem Nephis Animi”

La Macchina Va Dove A Gli Occhi & La Voiture Va Où les Yeux Vont.

It was Proust who said that the point of any story is to discover who the characters are, or may become, by challenging their abilities, their values, their understanding of the world. This is the only way you can know what any of these things are. This is how you discover who we really are,Continue reading “La Macchina Va Dove A Gli Occhi & La Voiture Va Où les Yeux Vont.”

The Evening of the Seventeenth, the Day of the Eighteenth and the Morning of the Nineteenth.

Well, here we are. The dreadful dragging, rocky and clamoring jump-start to the work week known as MONDAY. The very word bringing dread, it is first out of seven of our daily obligations to provide a business-quantitative benefit to the corporations that deem us acceptable enough to be provided a fixed quantity of bank notes.Continue reading “The Evening of the Seventeenth, the Day of the Eighteenth and the Morning of the Nineteenth.”

A Long, Appreciative Post. I’m Happy and Grateful. Trust Me and Have Faith.

People that are close to me have brought to my attention, throughout the last month or so, that I’m excessively negative. That my complaining, whining and otherwise “bitchy” posts are not taken as humor, as intended, but rather as negative insight that garners more pity than some “glad that’s not me” appreciation for their situation.Continue reading “A Long, Appreciative Post. I’m Happy and Grateful. Trust Me and Have Faith.”

An Inkling from an Inker, that Tinkers with Drinkers and Plinkers.

I’d like to welcome you! From my Facebook, Instagram or Twitter, y’all are more than welcome to gaze upon everything from my museum of thoughts and creative ideas, to my interpretations of and adventures in the outside world. BE WARNED! I am not a professional writer. I am not an amateur writer. My writing experienceContinue reading “An Inkling from an Inker, that Tinkers with Drinkers and Plinkers.”

A Distant Smokey Memory of an Influence From a Simple Time, in a Simple Place.

I remember a writer from my beginning times. We were only acquainted well enough for me to recall sparse memories of his smoky residence off of 63rd, polluted with green glass grenades and their capped puzzles & brain teasers. Fogged with a bearded insomnia that was highlighted by a small gold chandelier that hung overContinue reading “A Distant Smokey Memory of an Influence From a Simple Time, in a Simple Place.”

What Started Out as an Intent-to-Build, Turned Into Tongue-in-Cheek Mechanical Motorcycle Smut.

My dream motorcycle does exist. It exists in that it is always running through my mind and in my heart. Electrical impulse-firing and ever-pulsating. If I were to build it, it would become real and I probably would never leave it, except when expelling bodily waste or entering buildings. But that which is not started…Continue reading “What Started Out as an Intent-to-Build, Turned Into Tongue-in-Cheek Mechanical Motorcycle Smut.”