http://slow.writerscafe.org/Soulfulbubbles The original writings of author Soulfulbubbles en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776003403 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Bring me to form,Tested and temperedI made to beginat first as a tasteless form within a mouthy mindchitter chatter crackthe crunch and clash of teeth and boneSet in interwovengive me placegive me namea lullabywhistling unseenslow formingin the light the best shadows are keptand quietly nu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1547629/ writers block. writing thru. experimenting http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1547627/ Recess, keep your sticks and jungle gym child hoods. Leave me to build grass nests for the broken baby wings, homes for those  fallen from the trees.  In the past I'd build homes for bird carcasses.  Lifeless wings, plucked meat,  too much like myself, it left me  drown.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1423124/ Ideals  are delicate dreams of how we want our reality to be.The error is to assume what we want is  our actuality. The family dream was the sputtered spread of peanut butter and a balanced layer of jelly  cut perfectly in half and served with rice n' Ketchep Manis.  The fam.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1423122/ Long lashesdrinking in deeplya reason to fallFive years old again,naked she brings in her kneesshriveled  up on the dirt floorshattered and bleeding intoirreconcilable piecessobbing to imaginary happy endings.A ghostly man crouches in the corner, and warmly smiles,"Do you remember what you taug.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1423120/ Personal Poetry and journeys http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1423118/ She is the silent quicksand  on a tourist beach. he is the atomic  plume  the rain dust andradiation that sets in the DNA and twists it.Born from  a single drop from a salivating maw; a mother with a thirst for her own bloodThese are last of the children  that surv.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1107967/ nothing to see here. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1079663/ The middle morning is a brat with whole fist fulls of joy, obnoxious and blaring bright, brilliant and stubbornly drilling into our eyes. It was all I could do to breathe  between bursts of laughter and storytelling.Waiting at a bus stop, with my dear kindred  we were headed to  brunc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1067331/ I cant seem to shape,  cant seem to say nor write itWith consonants stuck in the throatvowels curling and splitting my tongueIts not pretty, abstract burbling,so crisp not not even worthy to be called crinkled,I know I had something to say, something my heart meant to s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1057697/ I found an old book the other day, With a blank green cover it crawled out and talked to me. some of the pages were falling out. I smelled it , it didnt smell like a normal book but it smelled good. It had wonderful energy. I took it to the librarian hoping that someone with the love and respect of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1057286/ There are days when I wish the rain would consume me,nothing left but a cleaner spot of where I once stood.Early morning mist and the slanted blur of midnight down pourmy  heart was pilfered through and welted, transparent faded purpleplastic surrounding a small bouquet wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1049712/ Farther than a stranger's reachbitter slippery lipspressed and stressed thinpromised together  like love and death in a lost worm's winter puddleleft to ponder what  was I ever meant to dream http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1047790/ Wind chimes, the breeze picks up, the scent of decaying wood floors and flowers,just a half sneeze around the corner, sun bleached asleep grass,grown as tall as knees then dirt, dustand the earthy smell of horse sweat.Deep breath, slowly a blurry bleak world Illuminates from with.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1043252/ journal spew http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1042480/ I found it today. Shiny junk near a machine shop. Maybe once it had purpose had a function, now its a metaphor,a decor and a mascot. Something worn shiny and good luck  and stuck in my pockets. Everyone sees something different in it, a  drooling face, a robot, a question mark or.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1041799/ WonderYou grew up like a dandelion on a freeway,in aluminum villages, playing cardboard keyboards and cat box bathtubs.laughter, love and music, a soft heart for strong baby boy.Blue eyes of little boy named  white pebble; it was always your fault,and you never knew who she was the ne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1040849/ just a journal entry http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1040655/ One of the hardest things I will have to learn..is to forgive my inner child side... for being a child for being human  and not  being invincible or invisible is to forgive myself for being weak when I was hurtto forgive myself for trusting  first questioning laterfor being .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1038714/ its nearing the end of the day, and I have done nothing been nothing.I haven't even started yet. Never got past the point of waking up. Numb lethargy.Of Time I have wasted, going numb. why?I don't  mean the admirable nothing like zen I mean wondering lost in your couch or pillow. Stumbling thro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1038523/ "We're nothin' special" she says as she flicks another match to play with."We're just anotha somethin', anotha somthin to burn" the fire  bites her fingertips and it dwindles, she smiles."I love fire, I love how it ends" her eyes soften and yet her eyebrows sink and sharpen."pretty is.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1038457/ In Order of what rots firstCertainty. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1038218/ Rose rancid http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1038217/ Little girl blood on the floorremember the promises you madethat it wouldn't hurt anymore,that when they closed the door left you taped up and  alone on the basement flooryou wouldn't swallow the grenadeno you won't swallow piss blood dirt or tape, no baby you'll bite,little girl you'll fi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1037293/ Do you see her?she trembles,  brilliant new leavesshe has something to saynestled deep in the whispers of her frondesence.Quick hold my hand, close your eyes, still your mindlisten, the wind is coming in...breathe between the rustlesthe rain is coming soon,her dear friend across the r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1035687/ from a dream i had last night http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1034823/ A  master sushi chief from tokyo I respect but never met,he taught me thatits so simple, so simple that its overlooked,that in mastery of detail, the slight subtleties of taste and instinctthe practice and perspiration to make room for such talent and intuition.Today a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1033985/ stuttering through minimum waged  small talk pretending the world was something life could buy youHonor  was  no  longer something earned but instead nawed upon through  metal teeth.On the tongue the world tastes of old rancid battles recycledbut gone are the samur.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1033767/ ouch http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1026225/ Why look at me like this?Why look at me like this?have you come to take away the last crusty red vestiges of my hope.Was it for the assurance or the insurance? Your motto: no money left behind ...Not a trace left behind, I am robbed of all value.What more now could you possibly look for?Why loo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1023702/ We have very different views....on friendship...It is clear now, that I was thrown away, like crumpled newspaper not even reaching the trash bin but left wet on the city streets as liter....Its okay, the tears are gone now, its all clear now. My time of use has expired. Somewhere along the way in my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1022875/ The worst things are free                breathing in burnt snowflakesmercury in the blood stream, it hurts when the mind starves.                the screams grew too loud,     with no ear to land concious.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1021885/ I hate the sound... hate it in fear... Hate it in sadness... hate it in the heat of dark nights I hate the sound of  ripped bird wings and dying rabbits. I hate the sound...I am afraid of breaking. leave me off in a far off land. Trembling in a frozen state of time my hands shatter... help.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1021365/ conversation with my diary http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1020847/ Fair weathered mammal....The heat it suffocates. I hibernate, curled for 12 hours in fitful sleep. Please bring back the rain Please bring back my fall and winter.  My clarity my joy  my mental presence becomes a flat line, my voice  stagnates into monotones.   My  spin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1020778/ Dismemberment "to deprive of limbs; divide limb from limb:to divide into parts; cut to pieces; mutilate.to reduce, reorganize, or discontinue the services or parts"- dictionary .comDisjointed and dismembered  numbness in pulsesloth in the bloodstream... like mercury. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1019922/ Footsteps, patter little strangers patter Footsteps patter little strangers patterShe came through the window,  with shards of glass in her tiny soles,foot prints in blood she broke her promise, but broke into me despite my resentmentdespite my rage. Blinded in her presence. Stubborn,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1019701/ wind http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1019692/ Snippets lines prompts brevity music http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1019684/ This use to be a family, a safety net, a tribe of friends I can hear the tension rip in the corners of every smile. Its unsaid in between every word  never the right time or right place to speak truth and reality unabashed. We'll try to laugh again but it doesn't go as deep as it once did inste.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1018919/ Ssh quiet now her blood runs silver and cold, the earth she calls.Under unbroken skin  blood pools in a deep purple and green bruise,Losing again the farther she runs farther  she's lost; It must be the smell,the smell of dark clouds above and the unforgiving heat, beneath a earth covered .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1018592/ Weaken by the breezehe settles  like the grumbling of burning embers,he dreads the color gray.A freckle in the upper right of his earlobe,he sighs so close to a cry, for minute in the ice of morning he holds on to his ears,to keep what he heard inside as if thedying flutters of a butterfly.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1015958/ Darkness with a softness I'll never forgive myself for,so subtle so slight, a reality I could  ever only deny.A midnight breeze through wind chimes,a stutter a chill  the darkness came from out of the blind spots of eyesightEvery follicle every cell every heartbeat chimedin unified rejecti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1015652/ haiku http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1015354/ not in any real order,, except in order of which i remember first. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1012880/ It was a time when angst filled every pore, was under every nail and in every drop of sweat. I was 12,  the world still out to hurt me  but now  fear and anguish accompanied  me in every shadow. Where I would look down at my own hands and not believe they were mine. A time when I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1012856/ just entries of my own inner workings nothing too exciting.. but necessary for growth. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1012836/  Swinging higher rising from green to a cloudy sky.She would give up her feet in exchange for flight.The day closes up shop, the doors locked, she finger paintsrain clouds in the windows, the light of midnight traffic slippingby glimpses of golden and marmalade light.  In a slow blink she .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1010540/ If only I could hear you invisibly next to you watch and truly listen to what you  wouldhave never shared, or to listen to what you wouldsay laugh and cry if on the other side wassomeone you completely trusted and believed in you.If only I could listen  and hear every word behind that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1010364/ there's an art to questions" she tells me " I just know it somewhere ruffled in these pages I'll accumulate the makings of an epiphany... i just know it somewhere its in here.. something to bring whats in me out."  she smilesthe way a dam would  with its first flush of water. a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Soulfulbubbles/1009303/