“The winter loves me… I mean as much as you can say a season can love. What I mean is, I love winter, and when you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love.” – A Separate Peace by John Knowles
Tag: love
Plight of Obsession | Poem
the phoniest of flattery the most lascivious of lies the cacophony of coquettish ramblings: all are the plights of an unreciprocated obsession, not born out of love, but of rabidly ill intent. ~ Sammicakes
fading sadness | poem
always present, but presently fading
queen in a clock at 6
Never mind your potential. Never mind your sacrifices and courage. Never mind your hours of work and diligence and persistence. Never mind the time it took and the tears it took and the friendships it took and life it took. Mind it no more. It’s time for you to look beautiful and gaze upon the…
Stairs to a Gaze | Poem
Put down in a pasture Meandering tongues and hands Counting, counted, and counting on more Never once thought of again, never spoken henceforth. – A time and temple of thought and solitude, more of bitterness and less of love Now just a deserted place that no person should enter Wondering, wondered, and wondering again Divine…
The Sad Man’s Rambles | Of Christmas and Stuff
Of Christmas and Stuff The man knew a few things for certain. He was no Scrooge. He was no Grinch. But he sure as heaven knew that he was no Santa. He didn’t mind the fact that at the tender age of four his parents had told him that Santa was a nonexistent being, one…
Boy in a Well | Part 1
There would be moments where I would find time to be alone. I leave the cabin and sit along the river bank and toss stones into the water. It was nice, nice to think about anything and do nothing. For most of my life, I was an only child. That changed two weeks ago. It’s…
Overboard | Poem/Song
If you’re sad and feeling sober Just let me know, let me know. Or else I’m going over, going overboard, because this ship can’t contain your grievances– my condolences. – I’m going overboard sinking with the water where the pressure cracks my bones and I don’t have to listen to you or think of you….
Squirming Worms | Poem
Squirming worms of dread,
on the walls and in my head.
Things Do Not Change, We Change | Laws of Life Essay
I have always been a person that notes change. Frankly I’m not sure if I love or hate the breaking of my habitual routine or of my consistent thoughts and judgements; nonetheless, it is still fascinating to me. Thoreau’s quote is like a remedy to my younger self’s question about how people gain or lose…
Sammicakes 