Comments Posted By Taddy
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 113 Comments
Around Halloween, vision of witches, thinking of the women through the ages, guardians of wisdom, of healing secrets, burned at the stakes for being too powerful for male fragility to tolerate.
» Posted By Taddy On 10.30.2017 @ 1:27 pm
Sticky like bubblegum on which you stepped, never leaves you, drag, gross, bright pink turning gray turning dirt, you are stuck because it is stuck at the bottom of your shoe. What will finally rid you of it?
One more minute, how many steps? Never enough, never far away. And yet, it is finite. Beginning and end, why the weight of eternity on the manmade object? Shackles.
» Posted By Taddy On 01.03.2017 @ 3:10 pm
In the gentle stretch, the seconds tick and finally the knot loosens. Exhale, hold the pose. Pause. Breathe and go back. Now the other side, feel the knots, the seconds the loosening. Treat, re-treat.
» Posted By Taddy On 09.26.2014 @ 7:55 am
How… perfect, for that is just what defines my quest for words, for the place of song and beauty that I used to frequent before. Before… Before what? All that is left is a struggle, and I can’t see past it.
» Posted By Taddy On 01.31.2014 @ 8:09 am
A beginning, jumping to conclusions, jumping out of my skin,butterflies in my stomach where there was peace a moment ago. What gives? Random chemistry coursing through my body.
» Posted By Taddy On 02.26.2013 @ 5:29 am
Is this really necessary, when life already carries intractable complexity, beauty and horror all in one, excess and paucity, why embellish reality? Temperature, days, expressions, acts and facts. All enough, I promise.
» Posted By Taddy On 02.25.2013 @ 8:04 am
Snow blown in the wind, hard, biting, unforgiving. Rumbles in an unmeasurable distance. Vague lights blinking randomly in the blizzard. Empty gas tank.
» Posted By Taddy On 02.23.2013 @ 4:38 am
Arching Valley, Always Inspired, Longing Away Before Love Exists.
» Posted By Taddy On 12.11.2012 @ 6:48 pm
» Posted By Taddy On 12.11.2012 @ 6:47 pm
“Is this seat available?” Random question, a fork in the proverbial road. Whichever way I go, there will remain a path not traveled, an infinite tree of possibilities. Does it ever happen that one of these untraveled roads meets the traveled one? Wouldn’t that be the definition of fate?
» Posted By Taddy On 12.11.2012 @ 6:42 pm
They used to be available at the ready, my words, eager, sharp, just awaiting a gaze, a wink, to come farandoling at the rhythm of my steps.
» Posted By Taddy On 12.11.2012 @ 6:39 pm
» Posted By Taddy On 12.10.2012 @ 8:32 am
Clear tear-drop shaped illusion of glass, scent that wants to elicit nature, colors that could be stained glass or pale gems, all in a soap bottle with an unlikely name, a cleverly written website that does not give answers but manipulates expectations.
» Posted By Taddy On 12.10.2012 @ 8:30 am
Don’t think, just write, they keep repeating, but frankly, what am I? Just a drone? A grunt chained to a desk all day long, with no room for my soul, my mind, myself? Yet, if they knew what I know…
» Posted By Taddy On 11.16.2012 @ 9:22 am
steamy bubbly endlessly new exercises in creativity grabbing whatever is at hand finishing whatever was left warming the insides nourishing the bodies filling the house with warmth
» Posted By Taddy On 06.26.2012 @ 10:49 am
A sense of entrapment, leading to a friendship, leading to curiosity, leading to success, leading to loss, leading to a trip, leading to an encounter, leading to an aspiration, leading to a migration, leading to a child, leading to a discovery, leading to the possibility of love, leading to my life.
» Posted By Taddy On 05.26.2012 @ 5:19 am
Deep in my soul, behind a curtain of anguish and disillusionment, I am trying to retrieve what used to be the essence of me I could finally reconcile with.
» Posted By Taddy On 05.25.2012 @ 7:13 am
I so miss the train stations in Europe, their predictability, individual character, the sense of hope with which they are associated in my memory. Stations are places that invite writing, where temporary anonymity and human companionship live together.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.14.2011 @ 2:17 pm
New word, new day, I was thinking, until it popped on my screen, suggesting endings and grief, the migraine crushing Baudelaire’s skull, the opposite of what I keep hoping for.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.11.2011 @ 5:13 pm
Puffy eyed, bloated, achy, discouraged, burdened, uncertain, lost, overwhelmed, hurting–that is how rise today. What a day, hu?
» Posted By Taddy On 06.11.2011 @ 6:44 am
Phoenix who shines triumphant from the clutches of death and the ashes of oblivion, soaring free of the unspeakable burdens of life.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.10.2011 @ 5:02 pm
Smell of leaven, fermenting yeast that brings life to the humble elements, patience as bubbles form and fibers stretch, bread in the making to be savored, shared, appreciated.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.10.2011 @ 4:57 pm
From the dead, on the horizon, early, from childbirth
Star, mother, god
All in one
» Posted By Taddy On 06.10.2011 @ 4:54 pm
Again, the same teacher? The word haunts me like an angry ghost or simply like a piece of chewing gum under my shoe. I wish for another one but can’t seem to get it. Stuck again, trapped again.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.10.2011 @ 10:23 am
Same as yesterday, or not yet today, but I have to keep pretending–pretending that I can, pretending that I know how, pretending that everything is fine. A pond full of sharks, said the man. That’d be a walk in the park.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.10.2011 @ 4:57 am
That is what I am, right? Except that I can’t be, I have no right to be, even when every day I stand in front of a class room and impart precious knowledge nobody truly cares about. Some teacher… Maybe my dad was right, after all.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.09.2011 @ 4:03 pm
That is what I am, right? except that I can’t be, although every day I stand in front of a class room and impart precious knowledge nobody truly cares about. Some teacher… Maybe my dad was right, after all.
» Posted By Taddy On 06.09.2011 @ 3:55 pm
Just a glance over my shoulder and I knew. I didn’t need any further proof. This was all the confirmation I needed. But what then? How should I go about… the rest of my life, the rest of the day, the rest of this lie? One quick check, and I knew–or should have known.
» Posted By taddy On 09.23.2009 @ 1:09 pm
Soft and rounded with a long, fine handle–my first paintbrush, the one with which I will break the old barrier, challenge the old prejudice. The one which will produce something worthy regardless of what it is. The key to a new chamber of my self.
» Posted By Taddy On 09.17.2009 @ 4:00 pm
Back To Stats Page
I bought a pile of paperbacks, grabbing them because I recognized the name of the author, or the title, or just because I liked the cover, and then I got lost in them, devoured them, became enchanted like by a magic spell. What I didn’t know then is that I was taking the first step towards a life I could never have imagined.
» Posted By Taddy On 09.15.2009 @ 4:13 pm