http://slow.writerscafe.org/i_am_your_marimba The original writings of author aponijose en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775992442 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 When the thoroughfaressink to the manner of seeing you   gossamerthin at the hem of my vision, when alleys  are wrapped in your Muzak of metal and livesspilling out from the faces of strangers, our cityexhibits the talent for wearing you properlyfitted a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/816609/ When we were the only "right now" that we knew of, our colors condensed to the yellow of light where a lamp lit a corner we knew without name. Until now it is there. Until now, simply "there." But a pronoun to sum what was sacred between us: the courtesy creaked from the wooden bone legs of a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/620477/ On a curb that belonged to my side of the city,I learned how to live with the music of you; the crescendo of shoes that would clack on the pavementto tell me you’re no longer lost in my streets, the attractive homophony filling the airas your facel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/532068/ “You ought to find Christ,” so the Christian once saidas he offered a Kumbaya bottle of the beerand we found ourselves safe at the tip of his tower�"the finger of Adam inched close to his God.When he spoke of “salvation,” the lights were still out,a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/479202/ ...to Jessie who can only be admired from afar. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/430821/ This is a poem for my photo editor - and old man who taught me how to climb rooftops and dodge bullets just so I could get one good shot. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/410189/ [img]http://images.aponijose.multiply.com/image/5/photos/48/500x500/18/1.jpg?et=C3Ha%2Cd7G7Pc7%2CUVW%2CFCWhQ&nmid=116559173[/img]Should my hands find cracks on your tightly rolled fist,as the roaming of clouds take the form of a warning,I'd let every better half sail better seas withth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/339874/ [img]http://www.writerscafe.org/uploads/photos/large/38642300-1225528915.jpg[/img]As I dare label "courage" the stands that we tookon the coastlines we found edgingafternoon yearnings,you did what you couldto paint lines on my facewith an orange meant onlyto crown your existence .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/336205/   At least let me varnishmy years off the table andfind the perfectionsyou’re born to beseechin a house that stands stilland rests hurricane-safe.Let me bring back the wind-chimes thathung by our windowpane“mending” the “rock”and the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/267990/ This is something short for a figure skater that I met some years ago. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/258781/ This was inspired by a video that I saw on Youtube, the documentary that me and my friend are working on (it's about illegal animal trading in the Philippines) and Hedra Helix's piece, Exhale. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/248988/  I wish you can get on the cab todaywith the hand-held belief on the silence that stretchesmy legs to the outskirts of things that were done -     on the lounge, by the trophy case     back when we used to keep   &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/235865/ I needed to write this one. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/217938/  I’m afraid that the Wordscannot rescue me here     with the chairs educating your knees of my thigh,     with your eyes staring far too close to know better than     smothering cue-carded Shakespearean .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/152656/  She’s the kind who would finger her nose in the subway;gallantly plumped in her body cast jeanswith the mellow dramatics of purple eye shadows leftChristian Diored on her late Friday nights. And she smells like cigarettes hung out to dryby the Def Leppard shirts and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/143747/  It was more than a house with cracks on the wall that sheltered the distance I couldn't take home with stains confining the empty elations and beerhouse classics melding with sounds of you taking a piss and sonic booms hushed by the clinking of bottles honking o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/i_am_your_marimba/91583/