http://slow.writerscafe.org/chalimo The original writings of author Charles D. Moorer en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775979510 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Song of Childhood (1)by James Rodney Moorer "Knock, Knock""Who's there?""Devil with a pitchfork flyinthrough the air?" The game like the rulesthen were simple:Have funRun fastDon't get caught!No winners,but losers abounded.You cou.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/483984/ Nobody but Meby James Rodney Moorer When you look in that placeway deep inside of you,that most secret of placeshidden away from the dailyhustle and bustle;When you look in that placethat your heart dare not lookfor fear of discoveringyour secrets in a place waypast cour.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/483981/ Dead Fish in the Tankby James Rodney Moorer It was like that, you know.All sittin' around, floating like dead dish, hoping andwaiting, as if someone would come and scoop usup, with a net no less.And they did, but nets are full of holesand it's still the same tank of misery.It'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/483971/ Untitled 4:James Rodney Moorer She is the anchor that kept both the rock and the roosterin place.  That rock didn't get swept away by current and therooster didn't get too big for the barnyard.And they were mindful of Vene  girl, never failed her or us.Rocks succumb to t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/483969/ James reflecting on a visit to Uncle Wilbur's affectinaley called Big Red http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/483965/ My brother James visiting our uncle Wilbur whom we called Big Red http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/483961/ An arresting homeless lady and how she got that way http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/462590/ A memory of my Grand Mother http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/429862/  Neda By Charles D. Moorer Desperate men in the name of religion doing desperate things have taken your life as surely as if they had pulled the trigger. Depravity cloaked in the façade of respectability is the worst kind for it hides behind the pretensions of their w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/424745/ wonder http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/415708/ I Knew You Did Itby CDM I knew you did it,but I don't know when.I was stricken like awounded bird of prey.Like slow chemistry thattakes time to incubate,you infected my very being.Diagnosis: I am in love!And now beyond the rim of memory, space,and time, I am yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/384144/ Untitled #4Memory is my muse.It treats me fine and dandy!It says you are a sweet candy.A piece about now I could use.Memory is my muse.What I cannot recall, I excuse.Sometimes it is not fine and dandy.Sometimes I just feel randy!Your body makes eyes at me,You then become my memor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/379456/ Memory http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/373455/ Untitled #2By Charles D. Moorer The distance could not be fartherNo synaptic connectionI am gone.You are here and so am I.I do not care if you bother.Memory provides no salient selection.Gone am I.I am here and so are you.I left by degrees,Stealing away by pieces,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/352581/ Untitled #1By Charles D. Moorer I remember moonlight bathing our bodies.Your n*****s like a second set of eyes questioned me.Would I stay?In your embrace I was safe, vulnerable, a little boy.Would I stay?I poured wine into your cup and knew joy.Gray clouds overtook silver moon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/352554/  The Surety of ConcreteB y James Rodney Moorer There were no apple trees, poplar or birch to line the path along the way. No lilac scented breeze to tickle my nose or waft through my hair as I trod off to school.No mystery to be solved, waiting to be found behind a tree,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/336958/  Love SongBr James Rodney Moorer In the wee dark hours of the morning, I sing my love song to you unfettered by daylight cares. It is pure, deeply serenading. I rush, but remember it is a love song not to be hurried, enjoyed as the aroma of a brew steeped just rig.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/336956/  One Dead SoldierBy James Rodney Moorer “Ashes to AshesDust to DustThis one’s deadCeremony’s doneLet’s get on the bus” I was reminded of my time on Funeral DetailAs I turned the bottle on its sideand placed the cap gingerly o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/329539/  Tulip or TurnipA Poem by James Rodney Moorer Making the breakfast I am asked,Can we go somewhere fun?Lately it has been like this for us,Daddy Warbucks playing to a room full of orphaned Annies. I flip the pancakes, cut the sausage into too big chunks, while trying .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/329435/  Indian Summer A Poem by James Rodney Moorer I see an old propeller plane flying overhead and I wonderwhat it must have been like back in the day. I imagine that I am the first to get there as I swat back mosquitoes in a tropical rainforest searching for that lost.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/329433/ RegretBy Charles D. Moorer Karma is dynamic,not like dice thrown.It is what goes aroundVengance is not mine,mine that it would beI want revenge...strive for balanceI wish,I wish I could love again.Karma is fixed,not like dice thrown.I wish,I wish I never met y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/316362/ I Loved OnceBy Charles D. Moorer I loved oncebut not after you.I loved oncebut only youGone but for my dreams,like Chinese inkindelibly etchedbeyond space,the rim of timethere is no subsititue.I loved only once,only youEven nowI loved only once. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/316360/                            A First Draft Sarah and the Circles!              T.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/307407/  Force of NatureBy James Rodney Moorer I do not see the hand of God in disaster.I do not think he cares if we blow ourselves to kingdom come as long as it is not his kingdom. We have forgotten him and he has done likewise. Proliferating like ants we have used up.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/303009/  Madam Conductor!By James Rodney Moorer I can’t remember ever hearing my mother hum a tune in an offbeat moment.Maybe she never had any, but she has us and perhaps we are the song she sings.A medley here, a little harmony there, and some unison in a mixed orchestra trying.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/303004/  Editors ChoiceBy James Rodney Moorer I don’t guess I can speak to snow capped mountains, majestic peaks or eagles soaring on high. I’ve never been there. Nor can I speak to teeming forests or vast wide-open ranges.Besides – my daddy never owned no such.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/303000/  In the morningBy Jame Rodney Moorer There is a time between when the moon sets, and the sun rises.The world is empty; there is no evil, no good.There is just… Mice do not scurry for cover and owls do not hunt.Criminals do not commit, and snores are no longer .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/297098/ Women talking about the complexities of relationships. Working hard to finish this! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/297095/  QueenBy James Rodney Moorer In that time and space she prepared us for our roles …In the world, not just our world, whatever they might be. Advice given was general for all and specific when the lesson demanded it. She held the nation together as if it w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/295020/  For My MotherBy James Rodney Moorer Words are poor substitute for what my heart wants to sing. You made cold days warm, dark days bright.Your magic filled empty stomachs dried teary eyes and put broken hearts together again. You are wisdom for all ages and a li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/295017/  Light MentholBy James Rodney Moorer It is two a.m.The day of the week is not exactly clear.It will come to me at six.I reach for my second cigarette in as many minutes and think they’re killing me but light it anyway. I cannot sleep and it is too early to dr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/295013/  In Progress: Still in love with the idea of Yolanda and don't know how to finish the storyA Novella:  Sometimes a story is just a story and becomes a story waiting, needing to be finished YO-YO             It was.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/294481/ Not sure of himself; what next? For him? For her? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/294473/ Just my imigination http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/chalimo/294472/