http://slow.writerscafe.org/CuJo The original writings of author Big-Blue-Apoptosis en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776092360 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 When its petals, flutter in the windlike the wings of dragonfliesbehind your ear, you wonder what those soft voices aredemons, or wings of seraphim?Laying hands upon your shoulder wind in my sails, steadfast soldier.Wanderer and fool I'd be,forever lost upon this seaunless I find a wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1216691/ Slinking down in my turtle neck, I am the namesake."Curtle the turtle, most marvelous he".I was young and foolish hiding in my sweater-shell.Now, I saw those flowers behind the ears, sounded like the fluttering of dragonfly wings, or the whispers of quiet imps.They drove me to th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1214267/ Blooming heart, all the quiet thingsthat you know are wrong.Your dreams are dead. You must take them back.I will jump start them for you.Lights come on in sepia tone, like an old film, and they catch fire. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1205675/ The breath catches in my throat. I am surrounded by dead things,eyes like mine, but vacantsoft pink lips that move,look like mine.These are my brothers. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1205672/ All I could hear was your heartbeat.Soft and warm and perfect,breathing into my lungs, and through my soul. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak.I heard it then,Replacing the one in my chest.I hear it still. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1205660/ "It's the death of a party, standing on your own", and you can feel it going down,saying kill yourself, kill yourself. Music, pop and jazz, twisting for form (or lack there-of) & they will make these thought(S).Tangible Someday.CHemicals, CheMicals, ChEmicalsSlipping down myself now, I feel very.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1162949/ I am dabbling my hands in all aspects.My heart is not free of its cage.but I am free to entangle it with the shady side of town.Yours and mine.Take me to the lake.Listless without the words of our grandparents,without the words of elders to guide us.Brainwashed to purity In pursuit of our truth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1156077/ These calls to actionthey're just not happenin'.Not when I'm preachingto the choir.But if you hear me teach you've gotta preachbecause one man isn't enoughif you reach the world outside yourselfyou can teach new thingslike dignity, honor, and respect.It seems by not talking,we don't have much o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1156075/ I want to be your penniless writer, and your muse. I want to be that punkass boythat champions your heart upon his. I want you to be the Death to my Dream,on Halloween night.I want to keep you warm on cold winter nights,keep you safe from all that hurts you,I want to grow with you.I w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155866/ Heartbeat, vicious.Mind, blank. All I had to do,was post some stupid commentson a website to make you feel happy.All I had to do, was write stories with you.And here I was, running around like a chicken with my head cut off,to find a way to please you.I just had to be myself...I feel sick,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155709/ When the World went insane,that's when people smiled the most.Believed in love the most.Listened to Billie Holiday,singing "when you're smiling"as they sat in the midst of the most horror,the most tragedy this world has ever known.And here in my room, even still it makes me smileto wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155602/ I am smothering you, my brightest star.It appears I have forgotten the sheer mass,the size of the sun, and the way it always hungersfor so much more than it could ever hope to take in.I will always remember you this way.Impossible flame, impossible feeling. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155596/ I am not the person I want to be,but how do I retroactivelymove from point D to C?Do you respect me enough to listen, yet?It's funny, but I don't even like the taste of wine, and I'm happiest moving in the dark at nightthrough all the city streets,rolling in that ocean of emotion. (But is it de.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155581/ There is something darker, clinging to my chest,the Emerald in my eyes is my heart.I run sleek through the night, and I sneak past all the windows, where the red light of streetlamps,can't touch me, no.We make graffiti, we are guerilla gardeners,we are posting quiet signs on your road.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155572/ These are the things I desire:I want to lead you,but I want our hearts to belong to each other.I stopped giving you my words, Teague.If you let me try again, I will write again.While we are still young, I want to be your muse,your insomniac. That crazy beat poetwho keeps your heart fluttering,in tim.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1155495/ I always needed to believe,absolutely in you, in the goodness of everyone.Because... how can I explain?The way I grew up,with Gymnopedie in my ears,it was something in the way the fall always came aroundand the leaves joined the trickle& how the streams carry them.I always was alone on the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1154998/ I was at work, and 21.Trying to find a way,to fill that hole, in my chest, in my life.Pretending I was ready for adulthood.I grabbed at the old Dutch chips (Sour cream and onion to be exact)and the flavor of these chips,that I hadn't touched in so long brought weary memories ofmy best.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1154993/ A perfect expressionist portraiture,of your life. Swirls of colors,shaped into reasononly by dedication, hard workand the care of loving hands.It was always sung to me, that virtue and fidelitywould get me where I needed to be,and it was right, every day.Can I say the quiet in my soulthat fills me e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1141940/ Needs more substance, I could use suggestions http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1141384/ I realize back then,Too buried within myself to breath, I was just as scared as you.I had every intentionto spend months, maybe years,winning your affection.But, you asked me out first,when I wanted to take it slowand I can't begin to tell youhow it freaked me out.Maybe I overreacted, but .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1141373/ Old man wizard,was once a boy.His father's shirt, which was once his robes,as he practiced magic,had become at long lastshrunk and tattered to show off everything below his waste, from his grizzled loins, to his gangly legs.Old man wizard screams at the children outside, but.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1141192/ Reading and thinking,A whirlwind of feeling, and it was so easy to fall into comfortable silence,but then that terror comes.That terror, of trying to escape from yourself,desiring to scream at the world,and laugh and liveTo realize you might not be able to.It grips you and makes you feel that c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1138336/ Did you know? They used to usesugar in museums,for those Neanderthal displays(You know the ones)They used it becauseit looked the most likereal snow. So pure, and white.Perfect.But ah, yes.It attracted so many rats.So they tried lacing the sugar with cyanide,but gave up, when the place&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1121370/ My body bent in servitude,to the waves that my little armsare just too weak now to fight.And I couldn't save you, or hold you backfrom that hungry auburn wireThat so ensnared you,Oh my love, you are so cold now. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1121361/ Arrival of the tetrapod,surfacing from the waterit's primitive lung gasping at the decaying element,that toxic air. And just like the first time, having to adjust, turn poison into life.To turn back the clock in the struggleto survive. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1117291/ (Laughing up my blood and insides, until the Oleander blooms) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1117290/ Setting the Stage http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1115636/ Enter dream sequence. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1112398/ Ridiculous, you say? Thank you! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1106449/ I am a fat house cat, sitting at my window,and looking outwith smart little eyesat all those portly pale humansslowly zooming along in their oversized chevy'son their segways, or on little legstoddling for the next great huntthat wild and free cheeseburgerand I know that they might pu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1106442/ You were a foolto think this vapid consolationof a night before a screenwould satisfy the animal desire in my heart.I needed to run, to breath,I needed to feel life in my rushing blood.But these false convictions and desires, met by a mutual apathytake my desire to see starsand replace the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1088227/ In searching for solutionsI still see madness,Rhabdoviridae, visible at every trophic level.Ogive metal or membrane-boundcurved so perfectly for misery.Insanity,draped gently on the shoulders of the weary and bereaved. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1087309/ It's hard to tell, honestly,if you or Iwas the monster first.But in the end, I found out,we were all monsters.So miraculous really. All the vampires, werewolves,neck-bolted monsters,green scaly creatures.Searching for life,like philosophers, masquerading as romantics,wine-tasters, gar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1087154/ Instead I find rabid nights,clutching at a word, an expression,a chance to act. Because now,I can never forget this moment.Your eyes, like some great celestial body.Full and round,with mass unfathomable.Only in the flecks of our eyescould one see our innocenceand childish youthwas the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1085882/ I spend my nightsgazing through the eyes of giants,bringing their lenses to a focus.But this lense in particularis the eye of Polyphemus, who tries to eat the weary travelersearching for home. Sound check plays softly in my head,and I pray the much-spoken will remove that green a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1082641/ These are a collection of some old poems of mine. (I forgot to celebrate their birthdays) and I'm really just getting them down on the net, in case a fire burns up my journal. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1075503/ I was a boy, with mouth agape, Chipmunk cheeks, red from cold.I had wanted to dance. Footloose style,all the way to school. To feel alive.But no, no, reserved as always. A politicians face, yes. Demeanor, yes.My silver hairs give me awaythe stress of always trying too hardto placate an eve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/CuJo/1075058/