Sunday, August 09, 2009




Like a wounded soldier, he stumbled through the door. Unable to muster the strength to feel, he laid down. Numb....
Had his beating heart and breathing lungs not been involuntary, they would have ceased due to a lack of desire to continue.
Where happiness and creativity once bloomed, now, only memories remained, written in sand, slowly being washed away with the tide.
-JB

3 comments:

CINNIBONBON said...

Oddly enough a period of non-existance is not necessary a bad thing. You know the saying--stop the world so I can get off-- Well a few of these days can only aide in bringing the spirit back into one's life. A little hiatus if you will.
Hopefully this funk is short lived.

PS. I hope to make it to see "summer" tomorrow if not next weekend! Thanks

John Bryson said...

No, I think I may have been unclear about these writings so I will clear this up. This writing has nothing to do with my life right now, it is simply a piece of writing that I put out. The blogs like this that are poetry are seldom related to my life at that time...I am inspired differently at times by many many things. Thanks for viewing!!!!!!

Steven Anthony said...

wonderfully written.