Comments Posted By Taddy
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I remember hearing geese flying very low in the sky over me, so close that I could hear the silky sound of their wings. But the fog was so thick that I couldn’t see them, until a brown feather landed at my feet born of the sounds above me.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.08.2009 @ 11:26 am
I heard them this morning, geese drawing the sky with their cries, announcing fall and their departure as they gathered over the valley. My heart leaped with the desire to follow them in their flying journey, but alas, my feet are bound to the ground.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.08.2009 @ 11:21 am
She brushed her hair for the entire hour of the first class. I had never seen anything like that. And as she talked, her answers followed the rhythm of the strokes, turning almost into a song. She was one of the smartest students I ever had.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.07.2009 @ 1:45 pm
Idol, feared word, promise of eternal damnation, of Old Testament wrath–and after all only an image, holder of beauty, conjured up from our projections, in which we may put more of our truths than in what we believe to be the truth.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.07.2009 @ 5:23 am
She stood in the door frame like a bronze idol, regal, still, awe inspiring. Her mere presence elicited respect. No word needed to be spoken. Her gaze said it all.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.06.2009 @ 9:39 am
Can writing be an idle addiction, idle thoughts falling on paper like an unexpected spring shower, idle minutes in a day?
» Posted By Taddy On 08.06.2009 @ 7:37 am
Sound of trucks in the street, idling under my window; faint smell of exhaust; breeze pushing the curtains. I am here and I am there, memories of seasons past, of years past. What I couldn’t stand then is now what I miss, for now I know who I am instead of running away from what I was supposed to be. If I can be, I can be anywhere, even here and even there. So here I am, listening to the sound of the trucks, idling under my window.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.06.2009 @ 6:14 am
Sometimes, I am on idle, I let them speak, I vaguely listen, I keep my thoughts to myself. Then I put the pedal to the metal and take them by surprise.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.05.2009 @ 9:45 am
End of the day, the world slowly collapses around me, light falling, trees bending, heads down, weight of a long day with no rest in sight.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.04.2009 @ 12:59 pm
When the laundry is just barely humid, take it down from the line, fold it quickly, and then start ironing. You won’t need any starch or any steam iron for perfectly creased folds and cuffs, crisp sheets, and impeccable shirts. That’s what my Mama told me.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.04.2009 @ 4:41 am
I remember the air in New Jersey, so humid, saturated, sticky. I remember the postage stamps that ended up permanently glued to my desk just because of that. Unknown phenomenon, exotic–something to write home about.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.03.2009 @ 12:45 pm
Planet, strange sight, a rock, a sphere, spinning in nothingness, following a perfect path to God knows where, planet, the wanderer of night, secret by day, planet, under my feet, so there we don’t see you.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.02.2009 @ 12:22 pm
How do you respond when your child asks you if he is going to die, when you so desperately want the answer to be “no” but you have sworn to him always to let the truth go from your lips to his heart.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.02.2009 @ 5:20 am
Icy. That’s how the blood turned in my veins when I heard him finally spell out the news. I probably had known it for a while, picking up on subtle changes, like the ripple created by a distant butterfly’s wing flapping in the air. But there it was. For good.
» Posted By Taddy On 08.01.2009 @ 12:29 pm
the wind blowing in my ear as i walk up the hill, icy, deadly, biting half of me off, the other half when i walk down. winters, snow, ice, snow, ice, arctic cold, gray gray for months on end, icy, icy wind blowing in my ear, biting half of me off, the other on on the way down.
» Posted By Taddy On 07.31.2009 @ 5:36 pm
Her teeth, so perfectly white and smooth and oval they turn her words into the gurgle of spring water singsonging over polished pebbles, erase the meaning of the moment.
» Posted By Taddy On 11.29.2009 @ 4:05 pm
The sky right before dusk in my rear-view mirror; the sun has disappeared but light still fills the horizon, gray lavender wash above and all around; the moon rises behind a thin veil of clouds, like the beginning of an idea.
» Posted By Taddy On 11.29.2009 @ 3:42 pm
winter has arrived and planted his claws in the earth’s tender flesh, growling at life, biting away the will to keep going, snickering at our visions of springs to come.
» Posted By Taddy On 12.13.2009 @ 2:21 pm
i love you, my love, my love, more than words can tell
but i don’t need you to smile at me to carry a smile in my heart
i don’t need your arms to open to feel embraced
i don’t need the spark in your eye to feel that i exist
i have arrived
» Posted By Taddy On 12.13.2009 @ 2:17 pm
eyes blinking with fatigue and jetlag, skin parched from dehydration, almost shrunken by all the hours, but she had arrived, my little mama, frail and smiling
how many times around the sun?
» Posted By Taddy On 12.13.2009 @ 2:15 pm
public patting pushing power powerless perplexed pitiful pendulum ponderous prolific peccaminous predictable past
» Posted By taddy On 10.14.2009 @ 10:19 am
That was what, eighteen, nineteen years ago? Or was it even more that that? That moment when I dreamed so intensely that I didn’t feel the intensity of the car crashing and my first thought only went to that dream, that dreamed of child.
» Posted By taddy On 10.14.2009 @ 10:17 am
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White lightness in a rice paddy, surrounded by barbed-wire fences and guard towers with soldiers with machine guns, innocence and beauty in a landscape haunted by war.
» Posted By Taddy On 10.25.2009 @ 12:45 pm