http://slow.writerscafe.org/electricsatori The original writings of author electricsatori en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776074812 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 436 words. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/717006/  "I chose you because you looked easy to hurt," she said, and meant it. "My lady," I quoted, "what a ragged meadow you have made of me."  "I cannot fall asleep next to you," her breath heavy with my sweat, "it's too intimate."  "I know what happens next, my life con.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/647326/ It was just a photograph of you, in our front yardthat I remember, but I have never kept anotherphotograph since.  Your age was clear in the kodak, a spotted bald head, (you were)standing erect againstyour curved spine. The tattered shirt was stainedand you looked.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/329593/ It was raining, pieces of            s        k           y(descendiing) dangling              .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/329573/ Group: �The Narrative Craft� - Exercise 2 Response http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/307693/ Group: �The Narrative Craft� - Exercise 1 Response http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/303366/ The dishes piled high in the sink. The chores left undone, interrupted by the unexpected absence of life from the homeowners. The warm beer sitting on the Formica countertop. Jamie’s father liked German beer, the kind with the consonants bleeding into each other.  He smiled and watched .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/302408/ Let's take lunch earlyand      eat time for fun. Forget about forgetting and      watch the moon chase the sun. Let's get dizzy spinning circlesto watch      the world turn upside down.Chew on Ritalin when we.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301596/ The meeting at midnight when the house is silentThe brush of hips words whispered in shadowsRhythm of skin to skina cadence nature createdFlesh wound to bones bones to soulgoneLong nights returning to an empty house Years straining against an empty promiseSile.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301595/ I am now remembering a past life where I walked into my son’s roomand he was sitting silently by the window.He said he was looking for other children – on other worlds who could understandhow it felt to fall in love at a young age. I didn’t think much of it then but n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301592/ There is a summer of memories locked beneath a thought of you. Past the honeysuckle that clung to the fence in our yard – beyond water and summer and winter and love. I’ve written thousands of poems and used devicesto craft words into sounds from thoughts I couldnot express b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301590/ So here we are. Shake off your illusions, press our warm bodies back to back, scream at the silence of night – that b***h won’t take us. Run through the forest, forage for dinner andscrape the leaves drywith your bare rotten teethend up on the ground laughingat the ri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301587/ Beneath my feet sand crumbled and filled the gaps between my toes where the skin clings to bone. I looked out over the beach and saw a drifting mistand I wanted to go back in time and see if the creaturesthat labored over the ground and scrounged fromthe ocean all were made in the same g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301585/ I am the skeleton of a white lotus.My blossom arms have dissolved to leave only the remnants of the architecture that once supported them. I sat inebriated by the blurring of boundaries – matter exists without time, but time does not exist without the illusory motion of objects in sp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301584/ Midnight drips liquid stars to the sound of my s****y radio. Snow billows down to coverthe wrinkles in the song, a throng of voices shakethe atmosphere into itselfand embrace the illusionof water boiling onto the stove     while I sit here and      flo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301583/ I watched her smiletrace tiny fractures beneathher eyes, little slivers ofconsternation the sea wrappeditself in.I wanted her to kissbeneath my chinsmile up at mesay somethingabout how wonderfullife is when lived. . .Later I came outside to smoke and remember,reflect a .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301582/ Edward Estlin tread the poem that is a tribute hereSerry liked the points of          r           a           i      &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301581/ IWe arrive late, sleepy eyed and watching ourselves in the reflection of our parent's eyes. As the intangible we desired form, an expression of self.Without fail, we want skinto register the brush of lips and lungs to tell sighs to each other on sleepless nights.There.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301580/ I don’t think you heard me laughing. How I sang in the solitude where my voice stretches the bounds of where I’ve been,  exploring new angles of memory and how experience has shaped me.   http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301578/ To help; Kundalini is the evolutionary energy in man symbolized by a serpent in yogic tradition. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301576/ It's not ursappeal and necktie http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301570/ It's a poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/electricsatori/301560/