Nothing is Warmer Than a Jazz Night in JanuarySixty little pushes of energy,resonating humming timbre,skate across the icy open.Mahogany piano counter topof diced notes and chopped chords…… Read more “Nothing is Warmer Than a Jazz Night in January”
Acousticguitar notes tricklingdown the perfect movement, for the perfect movie,for the well-timed kiss.However, gulping in the minutestoward a disillusioned realityis inevitable.This is as much Romanticism you’ll experience…… Read more “"Acoustic…"”
At a park…They walk,and it’s really that simple;footsteps providing the percussionas their words harmonize melody,flowing, not skippinga beat.A child plays airplane,or perhapstilt-and-whirlwith her aunt.Her blond hair pressesagainst…… Read more “"At a park…"”
Author’s Note: I had written this story in 2005, and I recently resurrected it and dusted it off. There was a lovely comment made by Zach at…… Read more “Short Story: Bottled Bar Stories”
Stress of the trigger fingerpressing upon the buttonof the flashlight shows the way,reveals clarity and existence.In the realm of Dante’s woods, no matter what light may…… Read more “"Stress of the trigger finger"”
Cue in the decadent snowfall— those flakes falling, cascading, weaving into a blanket soon enough. Bring fortha side dish of clean guitar— tender tone elegantly played. along…… Read more “"Cue in the decadant snowfall"”
Some sketch I did years ago. I have no reason why.
The death of light welcomes warm embrace as hands cross chests, burrowing under arms, and glances meet eye-to-eye through the onset of impending dusk. Warm breathshumidify the air–a…… Read more “"The death of light"”