Perspective Jon Hillenbrand, May 27, 2010December 30, 2015 This is a poem I wrote about how inspired to write I feel whenever I’m out running at night. Usually I think of a lot of things to write, but then I start to forget everything as fatigue sets in. Quick, run inside The words will hide Cuz’ words don’t fear Tip of the spear The dream’s not real Dreamers don’t feel So run tonight And see the flight Of angels high Above the sky Calm wings do glide And match my stride Look down with hope Look down and gloat See days like sand It’s in my hand Tread through the worst Clouds black and burst Run Spartan skin Wind chills my sin Look down and pray Run for today Thoughts with me dwell Sand fills my well Run with their weight Concentrate Poetry angelsforgettingnightphotographyPoetryrunning
Poetry Plump Berries October 14, 2008December 30, 2015 First I saw the cherry. Then I saw the long dark sweet ink trickling entangled down her creamy curves. Should I spoil her freshly fallen field of pale snow? Would I ever recover from sinfully sampling her unsophisticated sensuality? A hellfire might await me after such a kiss, or a… Read More
Poetry Delta Delta Delta June 26, 2008December 30, 2015 Last night, I walked past my bookshelf and glanced at one of the two spiral-bound notebooks leaning against the oversized Dan Eldon book. One notebook has a collection of terrible charcoal drawings I made in a period when I imagined I could practice my way into talented charcoal artistry. The… Read More
Poetry The future remains, as always, uncertain May 30, 2008December 30, 2015 I may not have all of the answers, but I know what I know. I’ve drunk lessons from the fire hose, most of it getting away from me. I’ve filled my cup with what I know, and periodically pour it most of the way out onto the pavement like tears… Read More