http://slow.writerscafe.org/JPatrickAusanka The original writings of author JPatrickAusanka en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776031166 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I have questions to ask,but I wonder what for...I was wondering, if you could sit down with meand reminiscecould you tell me,what was it like to die? what was the valentine's card for and why did you never send it? your mother found itin your closet, addressed and stamped.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/342427/ The clouds swung low to the groundsweeping marauders of rain and windthrowing dust, splashing the train windows.That young girl beside me wanted to talk,I could smell it on her and offered her a pillow.The sky spat spotted mixtures of foam sprayand grass blades as we barreled acrossthe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337879/ another in the Names experiment http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337864/  I am visited by words at night,dreaming slight meanings from theirdelivery, speedcatchquick I must be frustratedand then another folly over my mind separationlossrepeat I must be seeing history repeat itself short-comingsfearanxi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337863/ I am taking my outlaw mindon a poem walkthrough the trenches of myimagination, the valleysof my escapes.It is night and I ammad with the moondrinking homebrewed insanity and chasing itwith blue, light liquidlike a groom at his weddingto the midnight poem fish.I dress myself i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337861/  It really is the end, the new beginning the genesis and the escape not passing.It is the end of preconceived notionsand the patience of withering emotions.The end is the brink of my lost hopesfor what was once a beautiful rope.The end brings the noose aroundthe waiting neck of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337860/ I might go deaf at your silent passion,a ubiquity of passivity holds your tounge,muted screams passed on this frequency,I can wait for a signal only so long.I may go blind at the eclipse of your light,waiting for the early moon to pass andreveal a fire that is burning just behind,lik.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337859/  My father and I used to watchon the little black and white TVBritish comedy.I didn't get it. But I laughed, because he did.I did a lot of things, just because he did.His favorite was"Are you being served?"About a srewballconsortium of retail workerswho drove each .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337856/ not what you may think http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337853/ Fibonacci style poem - my favorite - also one of Maynards favorites...ever read the lyrics to Lateralus? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337852/ Morning comes against all protest.It comes with snarling vengeancepurloining the curtains with whichI have veiled my dreaming eyes.Morning bites at my dreams, justice served for an evenings selfdestruction, and nips the fruitlessfingertips that rest under sweaty sheets.The sun makes .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337848/  Men are defecting each way,finding alliesin grienvences and regret,bottles and sweatthe are ex-patriots of rationality,maintain residence on the bordersof love and loss.They are grouping under the neon and the moonchattering insurrection against misery,forging allian.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337846/ The silence has broken I am speaking soul,again I have  transcended,  emerged from silent knoll.The voice of love and loss,tired kisses and tableclothsecho memories I have voiced from texan sun, summer moistrain kissed blue-eyed angel,whistful, woe begotten .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337844/  Slick guitars and rythmic blues"Flamingo Cantina!" barks the moonwe eloped with Street Light Suziewe all ravaged her secret beautylate nights and street lights,high-heeled sweet thighs,fashion goddess' seduction rightswe make love to Texas nightsassay the starin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337843/ something from my hazy days http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337841/ In frequent placesof strange memoriesand sepia nostalgiaI die without you.I am drunk on the wineof fermented desireslosing flavor in winter.The wind, a reminderof emptiness, a breezeon high plains of misery.Dallas is the crutchand Kansas won't curethis quick heart attacktha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337838/ a little lyrical, but of good memories http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337837/  I need poetry like the salt needs the sea,Like heaven needs belief andHell needs the thieves.I need poetry like songbirds need to sing andWorms need to feedI need poetry like Tommy Chongneeds good weed.I need poetry in that intravenous way,Smoking that s**t is too weak for me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337834/ start with a pinch of lusterall the gusto you can mustermix with swirling vigor http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337832/ I fight the urge to be clicheunoriginalfollowing so many trendsand wavesbreaking breakingagainst the shore;you deserve so much more.Forgiveness is as much a spiritual questas it is practical,and you are so pragmatic.your forgiveness does not comewith reconcilliation-only frie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337830/ I flow my tears in silence.I have shed so many lately,like some grand catharsisbut seeming rather pointlessI write rather than weep.I lament quietly in syllabicmeter like a weary student,wanting only to leave classknowing this is the only door.So I pine away and dig deepdredging .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337828/  We touch to be known, accepted,grow inside ourselves and someone else.Bequeath our bodies to relish in sensation,half ourselves, half someone else,and lost in touch when all is felt.We are collections of sensations,self affirming, ludicrous shells ofskin, coursing with electr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337825/ more lyrical than my usual brand, but tried and true http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337823/  I am (as you are) a world of change,Yesterday, may name was only child,love of mother, apple of the eye.Today, my name is Icarus Fallen,dropped from wings of loosely glued ambitions,tending my wounds in the narrow shade.Finding lucidity in a dream, my mother called mewander.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337821/ who doesn't like a good road trip poem? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337819/ yeah, I know, who writes about roses anymore? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337817/ The wild horses are biting at the chop.I am trying to break them, to make them poemsrather than berserk, maddening ramblingswaiting for January to end, for February to begin.Gregorian dates reign supreme, but Iwould rather be a Mayan, with an extra week in meand these angry poems could.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337814/  spun on the bar stooldrunk foollivid on whiskey smacked the floorface firston his good side he would not be takingpicturesany time soon http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337810/  The electric circusprovides no solitude. In this forest of neuronsI dance delicately. Contortionist operatesmy roller coasters, makes them twist indeterminably.Though, I do not fault him for doing what he lovesI would, if I had the time. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337809/  On afternoons of summer love, wegive thanks for green to the sun abovewe float rivers in rubber inner tubeslaugh raucously, unhinge our bluesIn this labyrinth of water ways, wherecollege girls come splash and sun batheand reggae-rock and roll is playedby drunks with floating CD.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337808/ Cigarette smoke barrels down my esophagusin it's own catharsis, diving into my lungs,while Jim Beam washes a whiskey oceanacross my tounge and hurricanes swim in my skin.My hairs try to jump from me, standing on endpulling at their roots to escape like rats from a ship.Cowards, they.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337807/ Essences trapped in descriptions andthe vivid details are the truth of lifebecause the same story is often appliedover overand overagainbut the details contain the life.we could be watching a movieof greater or lesser effectbut would we know the preceptsif the details are left .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337805/ The words are glistening streamstrickling into the rivers that gushinto the seas, parables and fablesdrenched in society’s lurid ink.Under parchment and feathertipped pens, or clicked out ontokeyboards, under fluorescent lamps,drops of ideas that coalesce intooceans of belief.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337801/ Heady and heavy from spirits of fate,I imbibed wantonly, indeed my witswere smitten deep by the mixture,intoxicated in those olive green eyes,those luscious eyes she set  upon me. I drank her down and slowly shedisrobed her armor, as I did mine,arms embraced, bare bones sho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337800/ I wrote this on the beaches of the Yucutan peninsula in the ancient Mayan city of Tulum http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337795/ They will all be strangers, at one time or another,having been immersed inconsumer strategiesand narrative arcs ornews of a Texas motherin a Texas cult, or what they would call a "sect".All my friends are going to be strangers, I think of McMurtry,wonder if I will .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337793/  There is motion in the wind,  centripetal force of the swirling,  banking against the stop-motion  of the concrete and brick walls,  along the streets and gliding across  the face of aerodynamics, but still&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337791/ just a bit of http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337788/ The timid are the greatest fools,the ones who hold back, deserve the pity from thosewho hold nothing back.I will tell you an unpleasant truthabout reckless abandonand the nature of love:neither should be done carelesslyLove, like reckless abandondoes not know how to deceive,and t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337734/ She was mocha cream skinned,like coffee, she, my weaknesslike she still is, and all those curls!I pretended they were a nuisance,but at night, I reveled at them in our bed.I would tangle my fingers in thosetwisting brunette curls and pretendthat I could never let them go.She was this.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337733/ I remember the cold and the little cars-Little French menin little French carson little French streets.We stayed in a little hotel.The trains were the biggest.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337732/ It swirls in the bottom,plum wine in a crystal glass,sweet and potent splashed overmy tongue with chicken stir fry.It reminds me of cooking for youor orange chicken at Triple 8's,and so many things do this to me.Memories are just as sweetas a glass of plum wine at midnight.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337731/ Last night I was -beguiled by the purple moonlight,shrouded in sackcloth and ashes,stealing the soul of Wichita's Gremlin,with photographs and bright flashes. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337730/ calimocho covered streetsrun red with camisetasand teenagers wet from la fiesta,but would the virgin of San Lorenzoreally bless this?My cafe con lecheswirls its scent with the smokeof my cigarette and Valladolidhums in Septemberbefore the frost of winterand the brittle crisp cold.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337729/ experimental and without and end... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337726/ Man she got mad-took a toke and poked a jabat my ego,oh, here we go,again with the labelsand how "I am so bad"for using the substances in my handsto escapewhile she sits and waits for another drag"you f****n' hippocrite"I had to say. oh she got mad-.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337725/ Roasting espresso beans,black as liquorice, heavyon smoke and steel barrels,aroma canvasing the senses.Azula came to roast with mein those dark italian boots.Wrapped up Italian legs,born of Italian roots, accentthick as caramel, her sweetblack hair, dark as soot.She commanded me,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337723/ I am finding moments of lucidity,  in these nights rife with embellished misery.  The earthy dank of books in the library  take virtues and spell them out in lovely prose.  Manic lace and fibers frill take away breath  a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337722/ not about the Rolling Stones http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337721/  In elementary school, I was late everyday- the commute from Burkburnett to Wichita Falls;  mother slept on the couch only to wake up late every morning, wake me up late, every morning and I was late to school everyday.  I studied in the car- I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JPatrickAusanka/337720/