http://slow.writerscafe.org/JamesCoexist The original writings of author James Bonner en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776048148 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 The walls of the room were a red brick that had been weathered by a time and life, they paired well with the worn and dark hard wood floors that have more than heard their share of footsteps. When my memory began to grow too weary to write I sat with my head in my hands watching the fire burn to not.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/1040586/ Remember world this book is a work in progress. A rough draft of a rough draft. If you have feedback, let me know. Thank you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/685621/ "its a think piece about a mid level band struggling with their own limitations in the harsh face of stardom." AF http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/675960/ A look at experience and stress http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/672958/ A short bio http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/651936/ “A footpath, of wooded origin, and distinct only in that it needed no help in creating passage from one spot to the next -- even having overgrown and been unused for sometime -- while, still, presenting itself upon others simply by virtue of desire.  To be guided elsewhere meant that you .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/644232/ Entranced with the rustic appearance of hard-wooden floors and the berthed hues of an altruistic surface. It is a staring contest, and I am comatose--watching a fire. And welcoming the voices of people around me then looking, back, down at the leaf I continued to draw lines that had been caught bend.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/643675/ I promise you thatI am doing the best that I can,and though some days,they will last longer than others-- this day, with you, it went way too fast;  standing on this roof fighting the four winds,staring up at a nightly sky.It was here, I dreamt-of my own Hutterite mile... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/633929/ I often counted sheep to conclude my days, while laying awake in the middle of the night when most people have been dreaming for hours. If this doesn't work I'll submit to my waking dreams and lose myself in realities different from my own, but that have, in there own right, become more real than an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/632341/ Swimming along the street in front of me there are these two young fish. They happened upon an older fish swimming towards them from the other direction, and after making eye contact he nodded politely at them and said, "Good morning, How's the Water?" Walking on for a bit, the two young fish, who h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/621080/ Come; dry me out, because I’ve been drinking all day, and now, with the colors fading in the night sky--while sitting outside a restaurant--I chronicled the sun, just a course outline; a city as it hurried along, leisurely; a conversation, displaced; and, a story of moments otherwise adrift, s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/621079/ This is Water revisited http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/621078/ President Barack Obama is well into his first term as the President of the United States and whether or not you proffer your assent or recoil at the idea of unsolicited change, he has made good with a number of his campaign promises. Many of which are under scrutiny but all promise a much-needed ove.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/613727/ A look at the spirituality http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/611751/ Unfinished rough draft http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/609491/ I caught up with her at the station.  The train was idling, waiting for something, a steam was clearing and friends and families were embracing, chatting, and crying for loved ones leaving, and others returning.  I nearly lost myself in the crowd looking for her, worried that I missed he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/600413/ An article I am working on about Gay Marriage http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/597900/ The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to stand by and do nothing.                                  &nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/581043/ The winters were lasting longer and starting earlier in the year.  For some it was a sign that God was coming for those that had survived.   Though I knew that if there ever was a God he was gone, long before lasts of the deer we were fallowing.  Still those few persist and it se.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/580147/ I ran another stop sign.  It was raining and the air was on full, still I couldn’t feel anything.  The only light I could see was coming from ahead, leading me, and a low neon glow of my stereo that I realized only now I was singing along to.  I was stuck driving on a sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/579885/ I ran another stop sign. At least I think I did.  It wasraining and the air was on full, still I couldn’t feel anything.  The only light in any direction was comingfrom my headlights and the low neon glow of my stereo that I realized only nowthat I was singing al.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/579884/ More of an essay/Article http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/574128/ I called on a higher power. Standing helpless in the center of the street. Arms rose towards the heavens. “Familiar voices with unfamiliar faces.” A plea with little effort.Very little, it seemed, required much effort these days, just theknowledge of what button to press. Everythi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/574125/ "...you know, I have never told anyone this. No one. Not a living soul. Except, of course, those that already knew. While walking by an ally one afternoon several, several years ago Iwitnessed a man getting mugged. I hid behind the corner of the buildingand watched out of the corner of my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/574124/ There's a middle aged man with his head planted in a torn hole in thestreet. Occasionally he pulls himself up to examine a bundle of wiresin the light of the sun. He is wearing a hard hat, and has tocontinuously pull on his pants to counter the weight of his tool belt.Across the street an ol.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/574123/ My eyes wondered towards the window just as a white van passedreflecting the light of the sun into my eyes. I turned away sharply,out of instinct - I imagine - I cannot recall feeling any irritation. Ilooked back staring helplessly out the window. I couldn't turn away.Although, I don't remem.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/574122/ It was a Thursday.  Thebaby was crawling around in circles with an unlit cigarette in its mouth and aSpork glued to its hand.  Mom, a fewweeks ago, went to a yoga class and came home with one of those save therainforest attitudes.  She threw away allthe meat in t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/573603/  I walked up Fifth Ave to 59th Street and sat in the park on the Southeast corner overlooking the pond.  I had work this afternoon, and was still feeling used from last night.  On the way up I stopped for a coffee at Mud, and then again at a Starbucks.  I didn't finish th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/570957/      Thegentleman next to me said suddenly and without warning “ We’ll feelcomfortable, high up in our positions of stature.  Ignoring this systemof control made possible through bred conformity, ignoring it becauseit was us that established it.  Man.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/569148/ Istarted to wonder what it would be like to fall?  More so interested inwhat would go through my head?  What would I think about in my lastseconds before plummeting towards that comforting blanket.  The imageof calm quiet passengers falling uncontrollably, a mob of chaoticbl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/569147/ Iwatched excitedly from my window, as the clouds appeared less and lessforced hallucinations brought on by extreme boredom, childhoodfantasies and an ever expanding world dissolving our aging eyes till weare left with a translucent blur.  But becoming more a blinding whiteacting as fl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/569146/      The ride was getting rough and bumpy and the pilot came on over theloud speaker requesting we put our belts back on for the time beinguntil we get thru the weather.  Some of the passengers I could tellwere getting nervous, I heard behind me someone recite the rosa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/569142/      I apparently found my way to a new seat and the girl next to me had alook of surprise and bewilderment on her face, bewilderment is anexpression we don't see so often on peoples faces and the comparisontook me a while to make.  But it was most definitely bewilderm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/569139/ I finished the article quicker than I imagined I would.  I spent the late afternoon walking through the park.  Trying to get lost in The Ramble.  I noticed someone fallowing me after several minuets.  I would turn and he would turn.  When I rounded the same set of trees that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/568291/ I woke up with a post-it stuck to my forehead.  An invitation to a party.  I didn't have much to do with the afternoon.  I was writing an article about Obama, I wanted to spend some time working on that, otherwise the party that this surreptitious post-it speaks of might be a nice cha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/568290/ The train was settling, a steam was still thick over the platform, so much so that I couldn't make out the faces of the people managing, and mismanaging their way.  I have been spending a lot of time at the train station, I never go anywhere, I just watch the people here, and how it feels more .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/568289/ I almost turned around.  Giving up on this idealistic journey towards somewhere beyond the reaches of familiarity.  I pulled off to the side of the road and sat there starring off in front of me.  Suddenly I felt trapped, metaphorically turned around by some lack of direction.  I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/568288/ Late in the evening and on until the early morning I sat taking gulps of a Chai as the owner of the coffeehouse turned a mug, the coffeehouse's logo, facing away from me.  We were arguing the relativity of truth.“What do you see?”“A white mug.”  I whispered .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/565640/ Walking into work later that morning I found, on the ground, on the corner, while waiting for the light, a sheet of notebook paper crumpled and folded.  On occasion I find similar things with very endearing or humorous messages written on them so it’s become somewhat of a habit to take th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/565612/ Waking, or rather coming to the sudden realization that I was no longer asleep, keeps me disoriented for a moment until I focus on the spot above me. A bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase on a windowsill, a memory of last night’s dream, one that seemingly went unnoticed. They seem unapprecia.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/560770/ Sitting on the train, there’s a man scratching lottery tickets with a penny. He’s wearing jeans and a black overcoat, and on the floor his feet are clenching an umbrella " they tense as he nears the end of each ticket. Then he looks around impatiently wondering where his certainty has es.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/557604/ Come; dry me out, because I’ve been drinking all night but before I passed out, with the colors fading in the night sky, I remembered that evening we sat outside a restaurant, while the sun was just a course outline.  When conversation wasn't unattainable it just wasn't necessary. And, th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/557602/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/557600/ “Knock, knock”…   “Knock, knock”  Sure, I have on occasion been one to hear things.  Things that No one else could hear, things fabricated by my cerebral cortex. “Knock, Knock”  But never have my hallucinations played jokes on me, or ask.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/374474/ My work in progress manuscript http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/374473/ It happened really quickly, like those few seconds before a car accident when you know that it's going to happen, and it was like that thought you have when you notice a small indentation and you tell yourself not to trip on it on your way out, but you alw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/365392/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/365391/ This is that piece I work on from time to time while my heads campaigning against everything else I could be working on. Recently, I've decided to spend more time on it-when I get around to it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JamesCoexist/365175/