http://slow.writerscafe.org/mikeage The original writings of author Michael Howell en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776172229 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 It comes slowly at firsta single silentkiss onthe back of your neck, orthe single shadowbefore the sunrise, orthe single breathbefore the waterless plunge.It's not something you noticeat least at firstit walks slowlytoward youbehind youand the shuffling ofits feet become lostin the sigh of lifeand y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1511962/ when you run out of words.  when you run out of tears.  when you run out of excuses and reasons and ideas.and everything you could ever want leaves.and you're left behind to gather the remains of your life from the ground and wrap them in your jacket to hide them from the rain.  stari.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1509703/ There is a childa small, pale childthat retreats to a cavecarved into a mountainevery day at sunset.There,this child removesa chiseland a hammerfrom his pockets.And as heturns his grey eyestoward the cave wallhe counts the smiling faceshe has carved there.Some are carved large,spreading over the lon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1507692/ I can live with youIn the endafter ash settlesand the raging fires dieOnce the blue skies fadeto greyand my hands fail to trembleI can live with youYou can follow me backthrough the door, into the house,through the paint, and the fire,and the glassand finallyinto my bed.You can laugh with me at dawn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1504996/ Oh, hello, old houseI'm coming home again Stepping out of my carand onto the curbbrings back floods of memoriesthat rush like a river down mythroat and leavean uncomfortable lake toroll around in my stomach Everything's exactly as I left it. The door's broken, still,I had bent the kno.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1500453/ And they come hereto feel the sand beneaththeir feet. To feel a coldrush between their fingertipsTo feel it hit their spinein such a wayas to make the moon bounceand the earth become liquidunder their feet. They come to smell the seaand the sand sandand rocks.To feel the rish in their thro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1500452/ Original Lyrics http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/1500450/ Helium Hearts Breathing inshallow, empty gasps,must be so appealing to you Holding a pin inchesfrom you heart must meansomething to you in the mostintimate waybecause you knowhow dark this home is You know how dangerousthis game can beyou've been here bef.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/935752/ Isaac was staring at the rough, flaky ceiling of his dorm room when the alarm went off at 7:15 AM.  Isaac didn’t react, did not even flinch.  Isaac let the alarm ring until the alarm turned off at 7:20.There was a knock at his door, a loud one that would’ve woken Isaac up if .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/670176/ Prolific Any ThingsMy veins now comeundone in theheart of Augustand I’m bleeding all myprolific nothings onthe carpettrying to entwine designsof my own existencein the soft threads.it’s an extascy in my throat,and the moans and grunts andflirtatious any thingsthat ooze from my mouth aref.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/662778/ Our Separate Returns I’ve got a funny feelinga sinking sensationthat through the weeks, months,yearsand through all the placesand ideas we’ve been throughyou knew.You knew this wasover before we even began.It's in the way your eyeslook at minebut nev.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/657187/ The only way I wasever going to get attentionwas if I shoutedand jumped up anddown of Oprah's couchbecause there'stwo things that sell in this world:talent and craziness You don't watchthe biggest loser because youfeel sad for the fat guys,you watch it becauseyou marve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/654816/ There's a little glass bottlegathering duston a shelf in mycloset.  The skeletonskeep it hidden,mostly,and I'm confidentI'm the only one who knowsit's there,because I'm the only onewho everlooks for it. It's nothing specialat least in my mind.A cylinder filled.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/654811/ Dedicated to open mic's everywhere! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/648044/ Depression is the hardest thing I've ever had to go through, but I saw the light at the end of the tunnel and I hope you all do to, in whatever challenges life throws at you! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/645861/ Every daywhen I lived thereon the beach, next to the pier,I would wake up at dawnand watch the sun sift throughthe fog of the ocean About mid day I wouldsteal myself away from my computerand walk to the tier and backlooking for many familiar facesand finding only some&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636075/ You don't know true sorrow! he yelledLook at youWhiteRichProbably living with yourParentsAnd you actually have the balls totell me you canreally feel something?Go enlist in a war.maybe thenif you get hurtyou'll understandpoetry Ilooked at him, squarein the eyes a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636073/ He was the only personworking at the artwork factorythat never talked, never smiled,never so much as acknowledged anyoneexisted, even himselfHe satbehind his saw andworked.  All day, untilhis shift ended, and he would leaveAlways whipping out a dirty cell phoneas he left&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636071/ I will never becomea master of apologizesBecause a true masterwould never have to sayI'm sorryagain. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636068/ She giggledeach time the water wouldrush over her sand castleand she would rush down the beachwith her shoveltrying to catch the sand that wasswept away At low tideshe dug a moat andused a bucket to fill the lineswith water At the next high tide I asked her,Ella.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636066/ I'm tired of this game.But unfortunately, breaking the rulestakes twoOne person cannot throw theboard and pieces across the roomwithout make the onethey're playing withcry You can thrust those pink fiftiesin my face all you wantbut I'll never movebecause other players sl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636061/ There are two questionsI hateIronically, they both have the same answer. What is this poem about? Is my poem good enough? For both, the answer is simple:Why don't you tell me? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636057/ WARNING: F Bomb in this. Clever, huh? ;) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/636053/ Before Yes, I opened the doorinto this white roomI saw you, but couldn't look at your face.Your eyes lit up withpure joyand I knew in that momentYou loved meAnd I ran out of the room becausethe word love scares meAnd that word was writtenacross your forehead I r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/635971/ Someone very young and prettyonce told meMichael, you're betterthan your peersyou're better thanthisbullshit they callpoetry. You write with meaningyou write becauseyou have somethingdifferentto sayyou write to change people's livesyou writebecause every day is.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/609226/ We tore our veins out of our armslike matches tear across the lighting stripand the flames caught holdof nothing we'd ever known Please chill meshe asked through clenched teethI want to feel some kind of remorseBecause I can't seem to understand why everytime I close myeyes yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/569131/ We triedbut the university is alwaysinside of meand I'm falling through the fireholding my broken heart in my handsI tried excersizing self controlbut you wouldn't haveany of that becauseyou found solace in another's armsYou're like a painterin the way you use and abusebut neve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/569128/ I wrote both of these in fifteen minute period of time, when I was stuck inside the van I work in as the rain pounded outside. They go hand in hand in my mind. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/561786/ One thing could be said about him:He kept his hands steady His smile seemed genuine enoughwhen he washed his hands from the lastand saidI'm ready. I could tell from the look in his eyesHe enjoyed each body to come underhis knifeHis eyes cut much morethan the saw eve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/560894/ This is my first poem in a LONG time, so go easy :) Any suggestions or critisism would be awesome :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/549941/ Just a short poem I wrote :) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/524090/ I don't even know... Hey, it's late, ok? Gimme a break... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/466824/ Deprivation can speak in many tonguesbut yours comes first tonight.Do you really not seehow much I need you now?I’m sick, love, in more ways than you can imagine.But you don’t listen.Do you care? Somewhere in the worldSomeone else is enjoying youSomehow I need yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/463076/  Is this what We are? Truly?A splatter of rain and duston the once glorious, once clearWindow of love?As I waste away in labor and sicknessYou really can’t find the time?Every little instance, insubstantial alonegather in a pool of forgotten.You ask, why I do this... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/463070/  The PianoHe sat down at the piano, letting his fingers dance lightly over the keys without a sound. He swallowed and pressed down on the first chord, bringing his song to life… He pulled his hood over his head as he trotted through the puddles of rain grouping outside .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/459490/ Live ForeverThe orange streetlights and the low hanging moon reflected the glassy train tracks as the couple slowly walked toward them. Their laughs echoed across each other and rose above the dark night sky.   Off to the right a tunnel appeared through the rocky mountain, an orange.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/453904/ and on she went across the barren deserted rock,leaving him tied to a chair, tears and blood weaving a blanket of sorrow to enfold him http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/453309/ and the leaves, the branches, the emotions that scraped across the groundtraced lines, cut me, left me, and I am no more. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/453308/ Here, again,Where our paths collideI finally realize Home is like a mysteryLike a melody, unresolvedThe hole in my heart grew louderMy begging mind grew larger Did your arms act on their own?Did you lips move without saying?My heart pulsed, I want to screamYOU DON&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/453258/ Homemade BombsI HATE YOU!you think you’re funny, huh?you’d laugh at my pain, my aching, my humiliation.you’d giggle and guffaw as i choke outtoilet water?you’d jiggle and expel as my nose chokes outblood and water?Why did you don it? Why did you do it?!W.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/450940/ I actually wrote this one about six months ago, but just found in and now decided to post it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/450939/ He was sick of the monotinous way the days started.  Wake up, rub the sleep out of your eyes, plant your feet firmly on the floor, then the rest of the day would fall into place.  He hated it.  His dull, boring job always awaited him.  The pudge around his navel always grew, ever.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/450208/ Prose? Short Story? Screenplay? I don't know! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/423601/ As the myths of the world fade awayas water washes away rock and sandYour eyes flush and search my soulfor answersSo why can’t I tell you all that’s inmy heart?Do chains hold my jaw shut?Are my handsbound behind my back?Like rain water, blurring mental imagesin your e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/423597/ I don't even know how to classify this one... Possibly Prose? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/419624/ This is a short story I wrote. I drew Inspiration from my ex girlfriend and our situation. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/416125/ This one's actually a short story about some relationship troubles I had with a previous girlfriend... And, yes, there is some song lyrics in here, but here ya go ;) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mikeage/415905/