MacGreg

Perpetual connection. It's a good thing.

Thanks, Def. Your friendship means a lot.

It is easier, but isolation is never a long-term solution. We're better when we engage with each other.

Thank you, AC. I have perspective, I know it's only temporary, yet I don't have patience with my own melancholy. Thanks for pushing the point home - temporary.

That means a hell of a lot, coming from you. I wish the same for you, jp.

Thanks, A. One thing humans share across the board is emotion.

I’ve noticed that… Silence becomes easier than language When the burden of existence weighs heavy, When the advice of others falls short, When positive thoughts become ineffective I’ve noticed that… The periphery becomes favored When the darkness casts long shadows, When inner voices convince of wrongdoing, When solace and distance refuse to reconcile I’ve noticed that… Stability collides with ambivalence When doubt and

I'm still enjoying this story, but damn, your chapters are too short! You leave us hanging at the end of each one.

Are you still ready for more...? Soon. Thanks, Jay.

I never responded to this one, either. Sorry, Lisa! This must have been when GA's new system wasn't alerting authors of comments. Thanks for your take on this chapter. Yes, a murder would have been bad, for everyone. Thanks for reading. A new chapter will be out soon. Cheers.

Looks like I never responded to your comment, Def. Sorry about that. I imagine you've calmed down now, since the chapter postings have been much fewer and farther between. Don't worry, I'll get you to the other side. Eventually. Cheers.

Peter. Skittles. Interchangeable.

This poem reminds me that it doesn't yet feel like winter is coming here. Weather has been so mild and warm (tomorrow it will be in the mid-70s!). Today, I noticed an unusual flurry of activity at the bird feeder and across the back yard: robins, flickers, morning doves, dozens of chickadees, and a flurry of squirrels. It felt more like spring than autumn. Your poem brought on a sense of melancholy, I suppose because the season just doesn't feel right. Evocative imagery, Parker, thank you.

I believe that songs, poetry and visual art all have the ability, and propensity, to impact people in markedly different ways. Often, the artist's original motivation to create his or her piece is later morphed by the myriad perceptions of the people who have viewed, read, or listened to the piece. Cohen himself said of Hallelujah's meaning: "It explains that many kinds of hallelujahs do exist, and all the perfect and broken hallelujahs have equal value." There are 15 verses to the full version of the song. It's not just about a love affair. Ask 10 different people what it means to them, and I bet you will get 10 different answers. That's the beauty of art. In my opinion, the song is the right choice for this story. Leonard Cohen was brilliant at penning human afflictions; he engaged his listeners because of that. Life is ugly. People are imperfect. Many are bound by chemical imbalances, addictions, low self-esteem, strained circumstances. In this story, James Robert felt impassioned to throw others' expectations to the wind and do what felt right to his soul. He strove for greatness, despite odds against him, including his own sabotage. To me, that's the moral of the story: it's never too late to follow your passions; do the best you can, even if you fail.

A beautiful poem for Thanksgiving and every other day of the year.

You do what needs to be done and what is best for your boy, providing strength and love, even through the rough patches. And you and I both know that the tether works both ways...

Oh, boy...

Not sure why you were sitting on this story. It's a gem, a reminder for all of us to put our hearts into things, follow passions, live lives to the fullest. you did a fantastic job with this one, tim. The shortness of the story accentuates the urgency of the message.

Yes, "some things just are, as they will be", no matter the pull of gravity, nor the rolling of tides, nor the will for something unreachable. your poetry always gets to the core of it, tim. you have a gift of expression.

Stark and honest, no fluff needed. I felt like I was there in the room, playing witness to your awkward adolescent moment. Keep it up.

A wonderful duet, tim. you capture the D/s scene with honest perception and beauty. I love reading a sub's POV.

The fog distorts the path Swirling, thickening Like ebb and flow of seawater Predictable, frustrating Filled with variances of light and dark Salty, cavernous Sometimes inky black Never allowing for clear passage Only mere glimpses of possibilities Of what could be, Of what can never be The shroud distorts the path Can you see the sunshine? There, there, snippets of warmth We trudge forward on brittle feet Shackled

I suppose this shouldn't shock me - but it does. 98% just pop in to read and then disappear?

An ultra shorty, but a good one!

This line: We have to admit to the parts of ourselves that are less than savory... Another powerful poem, Lacuna. I would enjoy seeing you perform this out loud. Again, the rhythm is palpable.