The secret to good writing, like anything else, is practice. The more you do it, the better you become at it. You find your favorite words and develop new tricks. You create images no one has experienced before, and you refine them by creating them over and over again. It’s not a question if you should write, but when … More A Writer’s Best Friend
Thieves lurk in the dawn Plucking stars From the faded blackness. Grins bloom Along their wormy lips And their nails glow With the dust Of the heavens. Pockets full of crystal light, They slink back to their burrows Before day can catch Them in the act. And they rest Without sleep Too eager To see … More Thieves in the Dawn
GASP! Did you say free? Yes, I did kiddies. My book Becoming God is on sale, and by sale, I mean it’s free until this Thursday. If you’re looking for an action-packed science fiction novel, why not get Becoming God? It’s a quick read, and did I mention free? Make sure to give me a rating on … More Who Wants a Free Book?
You hear The wind’s whispers. You hear Him spin silence Into heartbroken songs, Turn hesitant night Into soaring sound. His breath You hear Raking through your hair, Sweeping autumn leaves Along the paved, still street. So why don’t you Hear me?
I write this now from a train rolling down its rickety tracks towards my university in NYC. This is where I belong. Not my university. Not this train in particular. No. On the road, moving, not here, not there, but somewhere in between. I spent the weekend at home with my parents. While it was … More I am not Sedentary
Did you notice the bleeding Star descending? Did you see the body burning Behind itself In a glittering trail Of tumbling Flecks of skin? Or were your eyes On the sun? Yes, its light is brighter, Stable and slow. Safe and warm, It browns your body With a long, caramel kiss. Now look again, For … More The Bleeding Star
Deep in the gutted Belly of a chest, Dust settles on nameless Treasures. Toy ships lost On bellowing, black Waters churning along Through nighttime fantasies. A brother’s bottled Scream, of joy, Of sorrow, and fear. The velvet caress Of a lover’s first kiss And second and third And final. Deep in the beating Time-keeper, where … More The Beating Time-Keeper
“It’s a tragedy,” They’d say, breath Static and still. “A bloody shame,” They’d weep, no Tang of iron On the tongue, no Sight of scarlet In the depths Of their creased palms. “He will be missed,” They’d state, no Tears sludging Out their eyes, no Dribbles of snot From their nose As if my corpse … More It’s a Tragedy
Perhaps, tucked away In the billowing folds Of black space Between our Earth And another, where beasts Squawk and shake The crystal dew from their feathery manes, You love me. Snake men fly As the sun sinks In the east, And you and I Walk hand in hand. Beneath the moonless night, When crickets purr … More Maybe You Love Me
There’s nothing like logging onto Amazon to see you’ve sold several copies of your novel. Yeah, money is great. But I would sell my work for free and still enjoy watching sales increase. People like my work. It’s quite flattering.