http://slow.writerscafe.org/jarjarjar The original writings of author jarjarjar en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776028515 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 and so they walked slowly on this tightrope yes the one you see before you back to back and shoulder to shoulder blindfolded and bound tenderly treading and pacing slowly into their discovery of this thing called love. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056454/ Help! In their envy,The Notorious Streetlightshave plundered the stars! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056451/ ebb, flow, CRASH! her body arched in the shape of the letter 'n' that then dropped, broken as it fell. like a tiny paper airplane, she flung forward chaotically, before crashing down into a heap of mud, tall grass and yellow.corrine hadn't expected this ending of endings.what a grand and graceful de.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056445/ fortunate falls http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056443/ just this timelet's try coastinginto this momentlet's just focusless on ebbmore on flowand its shoreand its shorewill be thankfulits sands will greet usin gentle kissesso that we know http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056442/ i don't like dreaming while awake.tripping endlessly through alternatedimensions of interlacedmoments trapped in visionsof nothing that could ever besuch fancies don't appeal to mebut still i am slipping into nightfall during the dayand i'm walking into epics of distant moons and intentionswith the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056439/ i am not much more than a scatter of left or lost or forgotten fragmentsyou’d find them, if you were looking. i’m not carefully hidden. i’ve carelessly strewn the dust of me from trees public paths and open streamsbut i’ve left you the purest part which is, of course, my swol.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056437/ if I were a paintingmy feet might be a frenzied fortunywith legs picasso puzzled andmy torso a tortured tiffany.but in my greatest hopes,you’d see all of me, as something divine likea da vincisome quintessential celestial thingsome fascinating masterpieceso, I’ll nervously anticipateno, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056435/ because knowledge is power and not always truth...  educate yourself and once you are finished gathering all the facts statistics and logistical proofs... once you are finished interpreting all the senses emotions and tangible truths... do yourself a favor  and unlearn them. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056433/ i stuffed some large emotionsinto a tiny,glass bottle.then tossed itfarout to sea.for it to be caught by the waves;stolen away from even me http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056428/ drops of confusionfell onto my lips,but my eyes knew what to say...and as their messengers cried down, it's         it's  y           yo          o  u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056427/ she likened the scene to a fiery pompeiibecause when she opened her eyesit was sunrise...the sun touched everything with it's divine light in such a waythat the world around her appeared to be in flamesthe trees, the clouds, the people, the cars... nothing moved.and so began the day http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056425/ in my next life, please-let me be one quiet tuftof soft falling snow http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056423/ a seer once saw in me that i would die at 23 as if death had only one concrete definition one absolute destination some point of no return and yes, death defined is the termination of existence but i say it's that transition that must occur before being reborn. " i die every year," i told her. "i di.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056417/ She had been running for days Her wings, broken machines Dropping feathers like leaves at the hint Of a new season. But her pace was now as unto a careless drawl Her footsteps slowly uttering a plea for...   His first words were Hey, I see they’ve clipped your wings. Your feath.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056415/ fix my head and my heartthere is obviously something wrong with bothyou see... they used to work so well together.my head was once able to logically dictatewhat my heart was meant to do.but, these days my heart has developed a mind of its ownand won't listen to my head anymore!so, dear sir...you cam.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056412/ when taking a long journey,the purpose of each tiny step is not always apparent.but this doesn't mean you should stop walking. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056409/ Jumping into the flames And wriggling off this old skin There was nothing wrong with it And despite my previous misconceptions About how well it fit (or didn’t) It held up well I’m just retiring it And trying on something new http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056406/ I am aware of what you think of meYou see me in abstracts And picture me in ideas like perfectionYou think I'm whole.But all the me I ever wasIs really in piecesHanging on by threads.which stretch chaotically into Monday morningsThen sink into SundaysAnd wither once again into weekdaysWe are strung .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056399/ today, i don't want forever.today, she can't have me...who wants illustrious dreams of permanence?who wants romantic fantasies of perpetuity?not me...not today, anyway. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056376/ look! look! look! i mightbe in love again- mid thought mid heart and mid wood http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056373/ paper airplanes are feeblethey fly when foldedand quickly crash once throwneven if they had paper enginesto propel and push them furthertheir hollow frames would never withstand the pressureof the atmosphere that would inevitably fight against themthey are fleetinglike the three wordsyou painted in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1056370/ today, surrounding waters crash ferociouslyand i stand trapped in a veiling mistif my mighty ship could speak to meshe'd scream from her very coreher voice roaring up her greatest mastand rippling through her mightiest sail,"Time perpetually unravelsyet this path be finitewhile your vessel still sou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/jarjarjar/1055782/