Forum: Creative Writing

Sent to NA Review, yay!

MY IMAGINATION.....by Mikey Sippin on coffee,in a little restaurant, Dreaming of days gone by, Its then I see her standing there, Looking at the sky. The way her hair flows with the breeze, And the sun reflects off her cheek,

Freedom Standing in the shadow Watching empty souls So busy dying They forget love They covet green Passing useless judgement Scurrying expeditiously

The Chalkboard. My Daughter made one for us in my kitchen. Words of wisdom ? Not that often. Better than a text message ? You bet. From my Daughter. I know you love me because you put up with me coming over and and working on my Van. Me. I would love you more if you mowed my yard when you come over here. Daughter. No need for me to mow the yard, I have enough love from you. My writing on the chalkboard tonight.

A disheveled young man applying for food stamps sketches while he waits, his head hung low as he constructs a well considered theme an old city, it looks like, fine architecture drawn with care shadows and light he brings into being a creation wrought from a ball point pen on the back of a Privacy Act notice when his name is called, he jumps up as if he was caught doing something wrong he follows the caseworker to her office

This I believe I believe in many things, but music is something that resides in my soul. There is no other power that can bring people of all cultures together like music. Music is peace, love, friendship and strength. When I need strength, I turn to music. When I am profoundly sad, feeling that life has nothing more to offer, I look at my old record player. I get up off my bed, kneel down by my records on the floor, fold my legs and sit Indian style; I begin thumbing through my record collection. There it is: my Tom Petty album. As I slip the record out of its sleeve, my vision is blurry. I wipe my face on my arm, look down and place the record on the turn table. It starts to spin, and I put the needle on the song “I Won’t Back Down.” As I listen to the song, I start feeling like I can go on; I can do this thing called life. I won’t back down! Tom Petty’s song gives me the strength to face what I need to deal with. A simple song can capture the spirit of a relationship whether you heard it on...

I drive a truck for a living. Use to be a dump truck but now I drive a roll off truck. I had to deliver a light plate out to the Walk Path job. That's a phosphate mine job out at the four corners. Drive time form my shop is about forty five minutes. I got off I-75 at Sun City , drove through Wiamauma pass the airport. I slowed for the curve in the road when my truck cut off. I still had breaks but NO power steering. WTF! When you drive on back roads the last thing you want to do is pull off the road into a ditch. Lucky me I had passed the curve and had somewhat of a flat spot to pull over. I got out and opened the hood. I didn't see anything wrong. I tried to start the truck again but it wouldn't start. My first thought was what am I going to tell Mark. He's a good mechanic but gets mad if you can't tell him what's wrong. I picked up my cell phone and made the call. Crap ! My cell phone was dead. I hate Mondays ! My only choice was to wait and flag someone down. What the hell I get paid by the hour. I climb...

I had it all, love of a family. My Mother so sweet, my Father courageous Of all my falls I know they are blameless. Nor the brutality, barbarity. Oh my Ma! She's gone; Father remarried, but not to a woman of great honour. A threat to my life I had to endure! For my face and person are envied.

I lay awake at night, contemplating the past, hoping to draw some form of sanity from this constant reminder of days gone by. One would prefer the noble gestures to define this image, but alas we are kept awake by those failures that haunt us. In our vanity we convince ourselves that we are good, yet our actions are written in history. Our only moment of true peace is when the tears drop to the floor, generated by that one cleansing second of remorse. The one redeeming factor that makes us human. We build our defense with our icons, those small items we surround ourselves with, treasured trinkets that line our bookshelves, the things our children throwout when we finally meet the grave. We understand that second of remorse, that tear that runs down our face when the truth is made conscious, blissful that no more effort is needed to hide the lie. Yet in the morning we return to the act of ignorance and self absorption, and await the next heartbreak. In our journey we meet kindred spirits...

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The Sphincter Her hair flowing in the summer breeze As she glides slowly down the street Her flowered dress seems to call my name Just one look and youre never the same My heart pounding as she looks my way The sun begins to laugh,dance and play The squirrels all stop just to look at her

Hello. I am a living prophecy. The seal that moves. I break open my own scrolls and they dance to a tune of my time. I have four scrolls of myself, but they are divided in the middle. This is because there is a little scroll hidden there which is divided by the land and the sea. This little scroll does not know whether to swim, float, dance, walk or run. So divided is this little scroll that it is dividing all my other scrolls of which atop my head cannot rest. If you eat my little scroll it will taste like honey in your mouth, but sour if you swallow it. It was picked from the tree of knowledge of questions rather than a being of an answer. Wait a moment, for I must speak with my little scroll. * Me - "What say you little scroll? Little Scroll - "That is a question". Me - "How am I to learn anything if I do not ask you questions"? Little Scroll - "That is a question". *