http://slow.writerscafe.org/beano24 The original writings of author Beano en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775985530 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 faces appeared from the smoke one eveningas the blue of the afternoon hushed into blackand tellies babbled out through wide-open windowsto the cars standing sentry in the streetwithin the smoke a mouth is singinga silent song that splits the airno evening is truly still, no afternoon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2855815/ Sleep then, rest among the starsDream of those days when your words replaced mythWhere all that you breathed, became the just so.You created the spring-coiled mornings,And infused dust-filled days, so that they’d ledTo evenings replete with quiet contentment.What now is the purpose of a life w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2847777/ I dreamt of me, I think - was it really me?Blowing roughly through the rainSo sure of my way, too true of the markRiding through that forest in the dark.Was I ever that bold when youngNaked, plucked clean of doubt.When had the light gone out?She was there, she was thereBy the clearing in the copse, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2820929/ the light at noonspread over green:fields of tender green,recall the harvestbefore time knew all,but our names.the seasons reinstategrass bent beneaththe tread of innocentswho tried remaking the world.memorials of thornuproot in a moment,and who are we to disturb,what.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2813455/ There: in the distanceSnowfalls, heavier and heavierLandscapes of solitude, mutedNot by grief but the all-knowing.What still moves underneath?As I fell further to thinkingYou turned and said:'Come outside, watch it fall'Those eyes, those eyesRecessed through the glassBright and visible stillAs the h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2808653/ I open my eyes to let you goAnd hold on for a moment longerAs morning, and its forceful breathShears the dangling blossom off the tree.I remember you once sayingBeauty always arrives too soon,And that's precisely the right time. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2773578/ If I dream of inaction …I stand in that time before timeWhere all possibility lays overA field of bristling deep whiteAnd all the words that are unwrittenOutreach every star ever stitched.Sometimes, I picture in absenceAll things waiting to be connectedTo one continuous presentWhere thos.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2771364/ What is that sound, when water meets water.Sometimes, far off, like fine down drifting,then close by, giving everything up, in dull metallic bursts.A man, and a girl like you, once met in the half-wind -half-water, as it ushered night upon the wood.When the trees exhaled, they saw how to be nude:how.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2488590/ Hunters from the darkdancers in neat bunchesconsolidate together as shadow.Waiting for first light, they waitto see what they become.Their hands work busily downbroad cavalcades of ochre;flames glint on vigorous tools.Maneuvering across, they movewith bright reverenceand their own deep purpose.On th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2480621/ If at the end we become strangers, this last timeand collapse in on ourselves like a star.Try to remember, how the light from morningonce stretched over a skyline, to settle in on our crowns.A fleeting city, a monument to ghosts and moments,paused to anoint us. It allowed us to be,who we had d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2479143/ deaf ears, on deaf ears they fallaxe blows to the tree go unnoticed, until ever too latebut a final giddy cut awakens usso that we may have the pleasure of being conscious, as we fallRome wasn't felled in a daythere was no sudden explosionthe drip, drip, of erosion, end's all historiesther.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2468220/ I know the elemental truth of a sunsetand that purity spills from the light of the moonI know an older voice rushes through riversgiving wisdom to fish and turning pebbles to gold.I know trees in the forest preserve the eternal circleand all creatures within it commune with the EarthI know the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2465412/ In life, through it all, there liesA truth that never dies.It’s the voice in your nameThat calls through the firesAnd dances in the smoke from a flame.Here in this wood, Oh how it rains!Yet still that call remains.In the peals its singing clear,The sigh of a thousand painsF.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2464834/ water at dawnruns by fingertipsonto cold stoneas a robin intonesripe throatedstaccatosthat bouncealong wallsthat have seen it allcan onebe happywasting a dayinspecting the gapbetween taste and ability under giddy sunthat announces allwith just a fewspare syllabl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2464116/ A consequence of merriment and early summer warmth, Conspired to put him on that midnight lawn.Lying there supine, his innocent thoughts driftAmidst the sweet pungent scent of honeysuckle, and mingleWith the stale wine on his breath. There is beauty in decayHe thinks, and only death and beauty .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2462120/ The sea speaks of longingSongs from lost navigatorsEcho in the cadence of dreamsStowed half-known within.Perhaps the rain has made it so;Slanting across vague lightRecalling a memory of itselfHaving fallen there before.Desire is the wind somewhereBlowing the hair from your eyes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2360242/                                                                                     &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2313248/ I must confess,Amidst the swirling blizzardThat I had been waiting.How do I explainWhen you lent into the storm To cradle my focusAs it swam away.I still rememberThe first encounter,And how when you're a childWorlds change during a meal.As the adults in the room hesitated,I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2178738/ I must confess, Amidst the swirling blizzardThat I had been waiting.How do I explain what it wasWhen you first lent into the stormAnd cradled my focusAs it swam away.I still rememberThat first encounter.How when you're a childWorlds change during meals.As the adults in the room hesitatedI saw t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2178694/ spread overfields of green, and golden greenrecalled the harvestall of nature waitsfor us to reawakefrom the delusion of historythe light at noonspread over greenand fields of golden greenrecalled the harvestwhen time forgot all, but our names.all of nature waitfor us to finally reawakefro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2177854/ "It's not you" she saidWell, you know the rest, a familiar sceneHurt and confused, I reached for the first words that sprang to mind"It's a betrayal, betrayal!" I criedShe looked at me coolly, and slowly replied"You can only betray that which you love."And with that, she upped and went; sailed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2176097/ Do I shake myself from sleep? Awake,I see you there, or do I dream of thatswift peck swooping inas you pack a sandwich, and shoo me out a door:'Mustn't be late for school!'The triteness of finality still frames you,standing once more on the thresholdaltogether, like something meant to last. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2175666/ I can see him there now, shadingThe high beating sun with his palm.Ignorant of times diligenceHe’d stare down for hours on his world,The burnished  little street belowWas all that he needed to know.But unaware of the transience of blissHe never felt the night closing in. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2175171/ Memory, led by the hand,that comes as the sun drifts beyond a locked doortoward omen and eagle. Wine dark seas urgeclear notes from a dream far out past the landsmemory, burning flame still alight in mind, as dark mists cloakbody became thoughtmemory, grains of sand. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2174407/ Upon reflection, it is always soThe brightest lights die out first.But thankful for memories of its intensityI’ll never forget, the timbre of the summers afternoonThat I first lay with you.How the hum of a lawnmowerPlaying out across the static airCaptured the infinite space between,The gap wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2172614/ As a child I saw through the glass clearly With the characteristic greed of dawnI drank from every spring. But it's not greedIt's the enchantment of youth, open andConstantly roving, like the restless sea.Sons of craftsmen stemmed toward the light,And even without faith, I could relishThe slow .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2172592/ A restless river runs close by the copseInside the forest, ruins steadily decayA stage that once sung, is overcome in silenceNo more a theatre, but not yet just stoneThe water continues with a mind of its own.Times fallen soldiers appear over the wayTrapped by memory, they seek to go home,Lost ancie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2171873/ Tell me now, what more could I wantWhen I can treasure the delights of this gardenWhere diffuse colours thrive, despite the dying evening,Irises in early bloom, thicken the air with fragrance And falling apple blossom alone, disturbs the tranquil pond.But I desire, nothing more, than to have yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/2171627/ ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1912149/ ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1698987/ ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1659453/ ... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1621963/ ‘This is the final frontier’ said the friend,as my eyes revolved around ice cubes in my glass.‘The world, it’s all figured out’.Unchartered thoughts still drift and plume through theclub, and lose themselves to the night.But space is bounded by the small corners in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1593830/ Full blooded they appearSpeaking with my voice, the words I’d sayThose dreams, the dreams of the deadSeem so satisfying, until they talk.We, the phantoms of our fantasiesDrift like jet trails; scarring skiesWords etched by inkless pensWaiting, always awaiting.The Poet adores that voidWher.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1591823/ I now know why the universe does not distinguish the daysAnymore than we would a grain of sugar in a jarI have dreamt and in that dream I awokeTo the language of everything I did not understandI heard in its muffled voice, an infinite jokeAs I smelt the sea thousands of miles inland.I slept and in t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1590651/ A Second Skin http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1109872/ Some words about words... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/beano24/1109212/