To Tell The Truth…

…or do you just believe the hype?

Sometimes, you look when you shouldn’t…
…even when you know you shouldn’t…
…but one thing leads to another…
…and you get caught in a loop.

If I chose to tell the truth, the story would say something completely different…
…but, this time around, honesty just isn’t worth my time.

Time will, ultimately, always reveal the truth…
…even after you’ve convinced yourself of the lies you told.


The myth of Santa…

…’tis the season.

This is something I originally wrote on the 6th of December, 2004.
It was two months after my father died. I am reposting it because I mentioned having written this and then two separate, other people made reference to it, so perhaps it is worth sharing again.
(of course, it looked prettier in its original posting… I *still* haven’t played with WordPress enough!)

It does seem I always think of my father the most at Christmas, even if I do not wish to.

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The Need to…

…when it overwhelms.

I love being a writer,
at heart…
with a writer’s soul
and even paycheque.

The broke,
The hungry,
The need…

Words that form
like fever,
in my head
for must have…

Ache to
pen to paper.
A fountain flows,
fills over.

And then,
you can’t…
and the words just
mess and fight,
like violence
and sex
begging to be let out,

in silence
against silence,
Pressure until
the moment
the muse
is met

…but lost.