Writer. Gothic Soul. Woodland Spirit.
Since when did I start lookingfor the easy way?Bowing to convenienceat the expense of a better experience?Nearly two decades ago,my first laptop was a source of wonder,a vessel big enough to holdall the stories I could pour into it.But lately I haven't wanted to waitthe minute or two it takesfor even this newer, sleekermachine to... Continue Reading →
Someday I will have read every book I own, every page from every pile of bargain secondhand book lots bought Just Because, every tipsy stack of yellowed classics whose reputation precedes them. I will determine what I need, keep what's meaningful to me, and fill my home, my library, deliberately with only what I love.
In the days of my youthful enthusiasm, a limitless supply of notebooks and pens meant the entire universe was there for the taking, or better, was open to my creation. With age, enthusiasm waned, and the blank pages got packed away, boarded up with limitations I placed there myself. It's time to pry them down,... Continue Reading →
Somewhere along the way I lost track, stumbled off the path, stopped fighting back. I vanished into the void, drifted into a black hole. I couldn't find my way home, wandering with my eyes closed. Now, brick by brick, the words are starting to click. Bit by bit, inch by inch, measure by measure, choose... Continue Reading →
Some days I feel like a dull pencil in a permanent marker world, a clueless teacher's pet clapping erasers and giving right answers, instead of a back-of-the-classroom, dressed-in-all-black attitude, graffiti-sketching girl. My tattoos are temporary but I want some serious ink. I want to make a lasting mark, create some real art. I want to... Continue Reading →
I don't want to jinx it But it's all I want to talk about I'd shout it out If it were allowed But it's still just out of my grasp As tangible as chance Or a shadow cast I've got good credit But the future only takes cash Yesterday I had an idea for a... Continue Reading →
I'm scanning the skies for something to be working toward Instead of trudging along wondering what I'm foraging for I've been picking up castoffs from the cutting room floor My arms are full of scraps and remnants but I'm wanting more Something of my own that hasn't been imagined before
Staring down a blank page like an empty two-lane interstate. Keep moving, keep on your way. Pick up a few clues from the landscape so you can approximate what state you're in, find names for the confusion and slowly fit a few pieces into place. Figure out what you're trying to say and if there's... Continue Reading →
Poetry has grown bored of me, as we sit together in front of the TV, having the same daily conversation, never moving to change the station. There's nothing new to say when we see the same thing every day, each of us waiting for a surprise while in the corner the fire slowly dies. Something... Continue Reading →
Mismatched and slapdash A little of this, a little of that Zebra stripes, cheetah print, or plaid Muted colors or a bold palette, Offset with lots of black The strange collections I own From antique photos in sepia tones To horror decor, filling my home There's more to the story Than what I've shown Blame... Continue Reading →
Michelle Wicklow 