| Title |
Excerpt |
Author |
Date |
Total Comments |
Recent Comment |
| torn |
i am made of paper, and i’ve been torn… daily… by those trying to shape me into the being they would like me to be. yet like an oragami pattern too difficult for the weak-willed, i have been folded too many times… and now my body possesses not the strength… |
William James McPhee |
09/25/08 |
0 |
|
| A lesson before passing |
I believe that it is life altering events which shape us as writers. They guide us, though not in the romanticized manner you would expect. When faced with the end of one’s life, I do not believe that any rational human being thinks; “I wish I had written that novel”… |
William James McPhee |
09/08/08 |
0 |
|
| that a new tongue may save me |
i feel that i need a new language as this one no longer serves me. it confuses me and angers me to no end with its failure to mean anything beyond the mundane. there is no power but to say ’power’. no passion… for such a word remains limited by… |
William James McPhee |
09/19/07 |
0 |
|
| Forgetting Oneself |
I forget who I am sometimes. Forget what is important. Forget that I am not quite as alone in this world, as I sometimes feel. I forget to write, and spend my days wandering town talking to people and for lack of a better term, living. I start hobbies, like… |
William James McPhee |
09/12/07 |
0 |
|
| Written Word Stereotypes |
Some will tell you that a poem is supposed to rhyme. It should not exceed twenty or so lines. It should flow from the lips like a kiss that was never meant to be. That it must be punctuated properly. What these people fail to understand is that not everyone… |
William James McPhee |
09/06/06 |
0 |
|
| The Alchemist |
The Alchemist, written by Brazilian author Paulo Coelho, is a very simple tale with a profound meaning. The writing is clear and effective. The novel is as effective as the reader will allow it to be. The story is of Santiago, an Andalusian shepherd boy, who follows his heart. It… |
William James McPhee |
09/05/06 |
0 |
|
| Falling Forward |
The front porch is the perfect place to watch life reinvent itself, as is always the case with each passing season. Children run for their school buses, while parents wave (sometimes weep) from a distance. Scout (my 8 year old German Shepherd gem) and I observe, this nurturing part of… |
William James McPhee |
09/05/06 |
0 |
|
| Front Porch Conversations |
John came over last evening and we spoke for some time on the front porch. The old wooden chairs creaked for hours as we rocked slowly and finished a bottle of Chianti. Scout (my old German Shepherd) lay quietly at my feet, occasionally looking up. She may have been curious… |
William James McPhee |
08/31/06 |
0 |
|
| conversations in oil |
on the wall, by their table, hangs a gaudy portrait of a large, pinkish woman whose upper lips seems far too pronounced. this leads them into conversation… not of this less than attractive lady, so much as the art of portraiture. one argues about style… ageless traditions… lighting and the… |
William James McPhee |
08/31/06 |
0 |
|
| do not follow me |
do not follow me as i pace the street confused, saddened, unable to return home. do not promise something that cannot be… a pleasant night, a longing fulfilled, a replacement for my wife. for i am tired, and may believe you, if only for a moment… but for the rest… |
William James McPhee |
08/29/06 |
0 |
|
| Reading vs Writing |
I would write, were it not for the novel in my hands… or shall I reverse the analogy? I currently have three books open, waiting for my complete attention. We’ll not discuss my computer which requires more repairs than did my ‘64 Dodge pickup, or my dog who most likely… |
William James McPhee |
08/29/06 |
0 |
|
| Bury It Without Telling Me |
her words will never escape me, and so my perception of her… of all our years, is no longer real. we had known each other since high school, and married early. (I’d thought that I’d been the first and only.) because of a depression that lasted ten years, I changed. … |
William James McPhee |
08/18/06 |
0 |
|
| End of our Holidays |
We are back from our holidays. Some of you may have noticed that there were no new entries for several weeks, due to an agreed break (by our staff). Despite a desperate need to continually write (which I wrote about in my last editorial), it is equally important to take… |
William James McPhee |
08/16/06 |
0 |
|
| Creatures of Habit |
It comforts me that we are creatures of habit. This is an interesting statement, and the pun is quite intentional. There are those who crave all that they do not have, whether it be adventure, knowledge or experiences. With might in hand, they pursue these relentlessly… however it could be… |
William James McPhee |
07/26/06 |
0 |
|
| Walls of Pages |
I was walking through the bookstore yesterday, something which I so love to do. It’s interesting how literature changes people. How it affects one’s mind and soul. And I don’t mean in the act of reading either… but rather just being surrounded by books. To walk through the aisles, fingers… |
William James McPhee |
07/20/06 |
0 |
|
| distance |
i can see it so very clearly… especially since her passing… this white expanse of land that lays all around me on every side. there are no buildings… no trees… no river brooks… and most certainly no people to cloud my view. there is simply white. a plain of land… |
William James McPhee |
07/12/06 |
0 |
|
| Serenity In Words |
Serenity. One can close one’s eyes and sway gently as a soft melody plays, memories of dancing close to someone whose heartbeat you can feel. It’s that feeling when things seem to make sense… although I will admit that for me, this moment does not come around as often as… |
William James McPhee |
07/10/06 |
0 |
|
| we danced to the same music |
“la musique” he speaks in his native language… “ah, la musique.” i listen, grateful for the glass of wine which he has handed me, and the turntable spins slowly… the needle threading its song as the red liquid rolls about my tongue. “je me souviens de temps en temps” he… |
William James McPhee |
07/10/06 |
0 |
|
| the mortality of spirits |
i see, quite often, sharp edges upon clouds… blades within heaven, which cause me to worry. for though this mist would not cut through our flesh as does steel, what of fragile spirits… recently sent from this world in a furious manner. will they feel their spirit torn as was… |
William James McPhee |
07/07/06 |
0 |
|
| Fresh Start |
They are good for the soul, these fresh starts. Life becomes stagnant so quickly and before one knows it, they are walking in a straight line. Like a tire stuck in a worn groove, we walk in rigid lines… the kind which offer little flexibility in terms of how far… |
William James McPhee |
07/06/06 |
0 |
|