http://slow.writerscafe.org/indIAN The original writings of author Ian T. McCall en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776919823 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I have no thoughts now,of the outside world,it is neither cold or warm,it is neither day or night,nothing has meaning for now,I am strumming,for hours it seems,I have been strumming,I have been picking,against the steel strings,cradling my guitar,it is my morphin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indIAN/283333/ an attempt at a haiku http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indIAN/283316/  The Birds is see outside,they mock me with their freedom,as they are able to go where they please,and do as they feel ale to do,while I sit inside this house,locked behind doors and windows,the pain of being held here,nowhere to go and nothing to do,is an excrutiating an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indIAN/283115/ a poem questioning the point of love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indIAN/282658/  This is I A mear rope Being pulled Back and forth In a great struggle Between the Devil My demons The demons of others And the Lord The good being Inside of myself And inside all I am .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indIAN/282380/  When the Leaves Fall, autum, a reminder, of our mortality,of the end, when the days, harsh and cold,yet still,a subtle warmth, a relief,from anger,from hate,from frustration, and a sad depart,from love,from happiness,from friendship,&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/indIAN/282378/