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can’t sleep
antiquated furnace
clinks and clangs
in the basement
spewing luke warm air
overpowering

first words of people
not yet born
stories
not yet told
mix and swirl
together like
oil on water

Sleep?
a paradox resting only to be
creating still

when the breath of morning comes
never enough dreams

of strangers
whispers in shadows
turning to different landscapes

fueling living dreams
The fuel stops burning when then I can sleep.

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If you are looking for something to pass the time with why not check out the WOOF Winners  from the past week

Fiction/Short Story/Serial Fiction/One Act Play
Romeo - “A Boy of Doubt” - A short story about a boy trying to come to terms with himself, and love.
Jennifer M Scott - “Goodbye Baby” - A young woman tells her boyfriend she is pregnant, is he happy?
Henry Petrie - “Social Networking” - A second-person account of killing time by trying to meet people over social networking sites.

Poetry
Penelope Anne Bartotto - “The Moral” - 100 words in haiku format on good versus evil.
Sanjay Chhabria - “Let me Love” - Ever fell in love; had a crush or engaged in any kind of infatuation… If yes, then this is a must read.

Brought to you by PlotDog Press with the Serial Thriller “Dead Play“

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So I was browsing the internet and came across this pretty awesome website that calculates based on your car, where your driving to and even the current gas prices and also MPG that your car gives to tell you how much it would cost to drive to wherever it is your driving too.

So for those who are planning a trip as a getaway, business trip or just for fun. Be sure to check it out.

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wild flowers grow through the garbage
a blue splashed sky sinks into a black ground.

I dive into the crystalline lake.
deep, pure sounds murmur in
sing-song back and forth through
the mind of mine.

singing to the love of the ancient world.
the roots grow deep and intertwine itself.

melodious serenity come to my noisy mind and
burn me with sweet infringence.

yearbook signatures scream from the past and I
grow stronger by the hour
wishing that I, too, can run around the
sun.

pricking my finger on the black rose
bloody lava erupts from my finger;
feeding the green Earth.

steel glass thorns encase my heart and I slowly bleed.
living blood runs over a cup of gold.

waiting

waiting

to be free.

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