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About icedfire

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    Comatose lurking.

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  1. Happy birthday :)

  2. Happy Birthday Guy,

    I hope you have a FANTASTIC day and a GREAT year :)

  3. Holy cow I just saw that you were online! I haven't seen you around in forever! HOW ARE YOU!?

  4. icedfire


    Seven years ago I punched a mirror when I saw your face, leering in place of my own. As I watched the quicksilver coursing down the wall, I wondered how near the thud of wood was to the dislocating creak of jaw – or perhaps the thump of your custom-made cowboy boots, black leather inlaid with red rattlesnake scales, as they dropped your legs into your polished oak box. Combine the three: the creak of its lid, the thump of nails driven home, the thu
  5. A few poems that I feel confident enough in to share with you all...comments, feedback, and criticism is always welcome, but I do ask that you be at least civil about it.
  6. In this haze of green and gray you stand clad in gentle teardrops shifting softly in a soughing breeze, and delicate coats of gold. In this forest grove you lay a faceless martyr to rest. For what have you bartered with his blood? Did you fetch a bargain with memories and loves that now may never be? A silenced voice cannot sing against the violent night, can only whisper of the light, muted by the veil of right, of duty, need, and war. The dusky rose of memory you lay will fade, withe
  7. The man commands the corner with an ill-fitting countenance through a frayed and filthy overcoat, blessed with dirt or maybe dried blood between dilated bloodshot eyes, proselytizing empty bottles from last night’s sermons. Exuding Jesus and whiskey his voice rings through a matted beard, church bells calling all ye faithful to look aside and hurry past. Across the street, drag queens stand backlit by flickering neon staining glass, huddling around
  8. icedfire


    Sitting on the November balcony with fireflies at our lips, we listen to winter return. Leaves shuffle like Tarot cards but keep secrets to themselves. I can feel your battered cheek throbbing against my shoulder, your fissured lip the only color given to the night. My hand comforts the curve of your hip but there is no warmth, only these embers flickering and cold. We are marionettes, directed by a cruel general to entwine ourselves togethe
  9. i’ve whittled these words into impatient mouths who scamper and cavort about me. they thirst and drink my frustration, hunger and stipple my fingers with red tattoos like rashes. and then, refreshed, they speak in form of verse with metaphor; and the tide recedes... not yet! I call to the smug Moon, but she does not cater to the likes of me. desperate, I try to take back my words as they do. as they do I let my veins with th
  10. icedfire


    The sidewalk glitters reflecting amber in patterns shifting with each breath, each inhalation. Civilizations rise and fall in the shifting diamond light at my feet, in wonder and tragedy. The air around me a blade, suspended precluding movement, but it is worth the risk to exhale and write a shadowed epic on the ground. I am precarious, alone, a gossamer storyline crafted by a fickle pen. If this cigarette break is my anticlimax then let me d
  11. icedfire

    Chapter 1

    There’s something disturbing about the fake grass they use at a graveside funeral. Its color is unnaturally bright, reminding me of Easter mornings and lime jello. A happy color, when you think about it. I guess that’s why it bothers me; it’s like trying to force happiness where there should be none. Funerals are supposed to be depressing, with people crying and comforting each other. I can’t cry for this man and I can’t force myself to feel sad for his death, and judging by the faces of almost
  12. icedfire


    A reflective, semi-autobiographical short essay.
  13. Happy birthday :)

  14. Happy birthday.

  15. Happy Boythday!

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