Comments Posted By Delaine

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it is the reason i am homesick. it’s the reason there are millions of people in my home city. because every other place is this very word. NYC buffs you into you shine. OH files you down into dust.

» Posted By Delaine On 10.17.2011 @ 11:20 am


I’m going to make her pay for making me feel guilty.

» Posted By Delaine On 10.12.2011 @ 8:32 am



» Posted By Delaine On 10.07.2011 @ 11:58 am


“There’s something wrong with the chef; every time she tries to make a meal, she puts her all into its perfection and when she’s done, she’s no longer hungry. Three meals in a role, cooling on the table, wasting, never enjoyed.”
“Chefs aren’t made to enjoy the food, only serve.”
“What a waste”.

» Posted By Delaine On 10.04.2011 @ 1:18 pm


it’s not sexual. it’s not sensual. it’s not even flirty. It’s knowing my need without my explaining.

» Posted By Delaine On 09.30.2011 @ 2:04 pm


Let’s rant. Let’s punch. Let’s kiss. Let’s drink. Be upwardly mobile. Point with full-bellied laugh at the tripped. Feed the hunger. Cry in the shower. Fall in hate. Leap in love. Kiss some more. Die happy. Live forever.

» Posted By Delaine On 09.07.2011 @ 2:10 pm


Dear wasps, hornets, mosquitoes, silverfish, earwigs, all spiders, worms, and any other, specifically rude, Ohio-native, bugs that my New York Yankee ass is just not used to handling, catching, stepping on, or co-gardening with,

that’s enough. Now, I mean it. I could turn you in for terrorism under the USA Patriot Act, Title I, for acts of violence and/or discrimination against an American.

» Posted By Delaine On 09.06.2011 @ 12:13 pm


They need to stay away from my ephin’ car. that is all.

» Posted By Delaine On 08.18.2011 @ 12:11 pm


can i end poverty in my city? could i help? let’s take one step.

» Posted By Delaine On 08.17.2011 @ 1:32 pm


she lives in a fairytale somewhere too far for us to find. forgotten the taste and smell of a world that she’s left behind. it’s all about the exposure, the lens, i told her. the angles are all wrong. now she’s ripping wings off of butterflies. keep your feet on the ground when you head’s in the

» Posted By Delaine On 08.08.2011 @ 6:31 pm


Whenever I see the word “violent” I think of purple. I wonder if anyone else has genders, colors, and personalities for certain letters, numbers, and words.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.20.2011 @ 11:20 am


It was his company’s last dinner party.
He felt excited and relieved when he heard her reach the bottom of the stairs. For once, she didn’t carry the heavy, dragging sound of flip-flops and slippers. The fact that they were named “flip-flops” and “slippers” and carried such an obnoxious cackle, made him conclude that they were doubly stupid.
No, this time she was escorted by the seldom sound of high heels. It was as intoxicating to him as her spicy Burberry perfume, which he could already smell from the kitchen. The cadence of her walk led him to anticipate pearls- no!- a black, lacy choker, a tightly wound bun of hair, and something, anything red. He sort of prayed for these things. He had become desperate to impressed his VP Jeff. She had become erotic capital.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.18.2011 @ 12:06 pm


I can’t be won over again. This time, my Resignation of You will not be undone. In fact, Resignation of You and I are like best friends. Resignation has my back. I trust it. It tells me when to give it up, when I’ve had enough. And Resignation has been “screwed to the sticking place.” We are tight. And affixed. And for good, I am through with you.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.17.2011 @ 2:34 pm


If I have to bow to another request by you, to another command that suggests that my joy and happiness is not a priority in the Grand Plan- if I am asked to cower again under your weighty shadow of neglect and “purposeless-ness”, endless servitude, invisible reward- if i am asked to bow again, I think I’ll leave you and I’ll leave you for Good.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.14.2011 @ 2:07 pm


I am plagued by the quality, or lack thereof, of this website. Thank you for the words, my Muse. @Jbyrd

» Posted By Delaine On 07.12.2011 @ 2:46 pm

Oh my goodness. I don’t know where to begin with this word. So many points, so little time. 60 seconds to be exact.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.12.2011 @ 11:58 am


Watching Alice in Wonderland… What does it mean?

» Posted By Delaine On 07.10.2011 @ 2:40 pm


I think i may be dyslexic. Whenever I see ‘maroon’, I think of the word moron. Maroon. Moron. Maybe I’m just the latter of the two words. Or maybe not dyslexic, just illiterate. Either way, I’m screwed as a writer.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.07.2011 @ 3:15 pm


I am under my husband’s spell. After all of these years, he remains my Truelove. My Enchanter. It’s his cologne, his deeply-toned voice, and the way I have to look all the way up at him. He’s a giant redwood and his spell sheds down on me like leaves.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.06.2011 @ 11:50 am


“…Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…” That was her fifth time shouting to twenty-six, ending the besetting ritual. By the end of it all, she sat back in the chair, sweating and panting. Her blonde highlights clung to her forehead and nape like wet grass. She’d never had an episode in public before. She had just gotten there and was embarrassed.

The doctor stared from across the room, motionless, barely breathing. The only sign of life from him was the slow, circular rubbing of his thumb and index fingers together. He took his time with her, having battled ticks and rituals himself. After a minute of silence he sympathetically muttered the rehearsed shrink-question that, by law, he had to ask. “So Blake, what brings you here today.”
Blake, still a little flush by the the episode, snatched two Kleenexes from their cartons. “I think you might be my father.”

» Posted By Delaine On 07.05.2011 @ 11:57 am


She had driven all kin and heirs away; She was so wealthy, she would gloat, “I could pay someone to wipe my backside everyday for the rest of my life if I so desired.” She was right.

But when the time came- when she was forced, in her elderly age, to be assisted to the restroom, to be lifted off of the commode by a nurse instead of a niece, she felt betrayed by the money that rendered such elusive pride. She hated the villain she had become. She resented the savior that money failed to be.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.05.2011 @ 11:19 am


I have something to tell you. It’s not a confession, but more like a declaration.

I pray for people. I curse people out. I like unique people, but get jealous of the attention they receive. I love God, but am not sure if He exists. I say I’m progressively minded, but am also paranoid of racial prejudice. I speak to young women about self-esteem, and I also show signs of bulimia.

If I am openly honest about these things, am I still a hypocrite?

I’m not. I just don’t know who is honestly “me”.

» Posted By Delaine On 07.01.2011 @ 6:59 am


Just because I’m wading through deep waters doesn’t mean I’m unafraid of going under.

» Posted By Delaine On 06.29.2011 @ 12:20 pm


For some subliminal, unknown reason, when I think of the word “crush” I think of a white, frothy wave slamming itself onto a beach of awe-stricken admirers. I think of a can- wait, specifically the green and yellow dressed Sprite can- I think of this can being folded under the palm of a man’s hand. That’s what a crush feels like to me.

» Posted By Delaine On 06.28.2011 @ 11:38 am


No. I’m not writing about antlers today. :) I did see a deer on my 4 mile jog today, though it was a doe.

» Posted By Delaine On 06.25.2011 @ 3:51 pm


Once again…. One last time. Just this once. Again. I fail to quit.

» Posted By Delaine On 06.24.2011 @ 10:36 pm

How is it that I have so many student loans and I’m still not a doctor yet?

» Posted By Delaine On 06.24.2011 @ 1:05 pm


History is about all the thing we’ve done. I don’t have a history. I’m five. Wait, what’s history?

(my daughter Kayla Rose, age 5)

» Posted By Delaine On 06.24.2011 @ 9:43 am

I used to Live in New York. Now I garden in Ohio. I used to go to plays and walk along the Hudson River. Now, I pack three children in the back of a 2001 Accord and sing Chris Tomlin all the way to… No place.

No place like home.

» Posted By Delaine On 06.23.2011 @ 11:59 am

History never repeats itself. The idea that you get chance, a second glance at anything is nothing more than simple human error. It’s only the grandiose, self-important nature of humanity that declares, “No worries. We’ll see this day again.” We should live like we’re making history; a series of moments that are both fleeting and precious enough to write about in books.

» Posted By Delaine On 06.23.2011 @ 11:52 am

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