Scribbles 'n Bits

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  • Honest Tea

    Of all the colors counting
my favorite one is you. 
I couldn't be more happy
if all the snacks were blue.
Statistically speaking - tongue tied - 
vomiting words, 
but all completely true.

  • Forge

    Go, go on 
    Go on comfort 
    Go on pain 
    Go on grip of something beautiful 
    Go, go on
    Go on common
    Go on fate
    Go on hard fought and earned 
    Go, go on
    Go on, love
    Live life like a dying breed 
    Change - my first and last dying need 
    So go
    Go, go on

  • Gravitate

    The first came from answer,
a place you'd least expect. 
The last place on earth
rest between your lips. 
A final question answered.
Where every person lay.
A journey finally ventured,
dead silence caught, 
magnificent 
and utterly afraid.

So rudely interrupted.
Destined, 
from the middle  
to the end of a line. 
The story not faded, 
but truly refined - 
a switchback no one knows. 
The last mark of ink.
An ‘x’ between your feet. 
Dig deeper still
until you sink beneath.

  • The Beat

    So rumble on. 
Dignified specks 
across the cuffs.
A stumbled run.
Lives closer, 
standing back, 
than coming from.  
A room of champagne glasses 
painted darkly - 
beating a rogue drum. 
A gallery free 
of ivory canvas.
Deaf fallen hum.

  • Solstice

    Over the shoulder
into dawn - 
a bruised and battered sky. 
Past the fallen
violet honey
or so goes the cry. 

Through cedar boughs;
over ice - 
a freshly minted leave.
A turned corner,
the smokehouse finds reprieve. 

A cliche for all ages,
"what's done is done,"
and again
never comes.
A brow's glistening white beads.

  • Echo Chamber

    Low roads pierce heavy clouds,
    down the barrel - face - 
    selling thoughts a penny. 
    Parlor tricks without gloat
    heads nod - embrace -
    betting men a plenty. 

    Facing facts wrinkles skin;
    firmly falls grace,
    failing sharper than any. 
    Meaning life falls in love,
    pays slim straights - 
    the house tax a century.

  • A Wandering: The Nuance of Idle Thought

    From a person imprisoned or sheltered within their mind arise pathologies not explored by those who take benevolent residence instead.

  • Memorandum of Overture

    My advice, 
fallen deaf 
on the ears made by 
adjoining symphony -
or cacophony - indifference. 
Splice.
Sew broken 
chord through and thorough.
Fodder for the cannon; 
bows at the ready. 
My advice?
Hold your head high,
an octave above the rest.
And fade.

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  • Literary Labyrinth: The Six Word Story

    It may be legend, or perhaps fact, Ernest Hemingway is said to have been challenged to write a story in six words. Now, a popular practice in academia and in casual on a so-titled subreddit.

    The end of the year is festive, whether you actively participate or, like me, soak in the air of optimism and exuberance – either way, good for reflection. I challenge my readers, if you’d like, to write your own six words about your year. Here’s something thoughtful about mine: 

    In media res, late or lucky?

    All the best,

    Josh