http://slow.writerscafe.org/mike.espinosa The original writings of author Mike Espinosa en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775994083 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 You want to be a writer.You jot 500 words every day.You spend hoursto find the perfect story endings.You realize the next daythey could be better.You spend years waitingfor a beautiful thought.None come to you.You try pot and LSD a few timeswith a notebook by your side.You end up drawing-Dragons com.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/992206/ Based on “A Dream of Her Grandfather” by Zitkala-Sa. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/581021/ Based on "The Land of the Free" by Sui Sin Far. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/577228/ Just beyond our fencea clearing satsurrounded by bushes and trees.Roots rose from the groundand became chairs of my imagination;a place I played my rebellion. The brush invaded my headquarters,like Napoleon invaded Europe.I didn't have a Waterlooto retain my childhood home.Goodbye, my friend.Yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/553538/ Imagine a worldwhere you had said, "Yes."Where nights aren't lonesomeand cheeks not soaked.Where laughter echoes off the walls,like a priest's sermon in a cathedral.Where less facial muscles are used, at least that's what they say.Where the clouds don't follow as closelyabove your sunken head.I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/553093/ After a photograph by a good friend. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/551336/ Routinemorning stretchesstart out mystatic days.Limbs thatdon't move how they should;knees,ankles, a shoulder,and an elbowthat creaks and popslike abranch in a stormthat getsworse with each passing day.They sayprogress should be evident, yet I seenon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/551330/ I walkedquickly through the library.The back corner,where alonely chair and desk sat.My bookcreaked open.The pagesruffled under my fingers.Afterseveral blissful minutesI heard ascratching.My eyestwitched, I scanned the room.Not a soul.A cricketsat .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/548741/ Lazy dogs lying under cedar trees.Just slightly tilting their heads,the dogs looked at each other.They had not eaten in days.Their shared glance was brokenby the collapse of one.The whine of the other was short.He fell asleep to the whispersthat echoed through the woods.The birds' lullaby sang .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/547770/ Too blank are the black eyes that stare through the broken windowToo red the fists on the other sideToo fast my heartToo loud are my screams(I can't hear them anymore)Too cold the barrel to my templeToo hard the tiled floor below meToo late to say my goodbyesToo soon the deed done http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/547768/ Too fancy for something that ends up in a boxor a fire.Shiny and sleek-they were my favorite shoes. The laces' noosedangled in the center.I knew they'd be gone one day.I had grown accustomed to their feel.I looked forward to the pain in my left heelwhile slipping it on, ignoring the knot. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/547762/ The butterflies in my stomach have died,choked on the dinner you made.One still has hope,treading weakly in the wake.Speaking my mind is forbidden,with your scorn, they are riddled.You look at me with those cold eyes.I shudder, knowing you'll diein the morning. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/547362/ “I never promised you success,” he said, “It was anexperiment. We didn’t know what was going to happen. That was the point, sir.”                Theboardroom looked empty, just him and th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/542866/ So cold.The night whispers,"No more light."No moon.Gods look away.Only wolves left.Bright fangs.Glowing round eyes.Howls at nothing.No Stars.The lonely sky.Hovers on us.No Sun.No one returns.We are alone.One lunge.The first mouthful. One last bellow.No help.The night murmurs,"Goodnight, you foo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/541635/ "Devil take the hindmost,"they said to me before racing off,leaving me to ponder my effortsto keep my fickle spirit aloft.The sky grew a dark ashen gray;the once joyous park seemed to sink;the whimsical breeze became desolate,and there was only one thing I could think... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/540592/ This tea is cold; there’s no point now. The point of tea is to have ithot. That’s why it’s so relaxing. When the warmth has escaped it, like theyouth from my bones, there’s no point in going on. It’s done.         &nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/538573/ The light shining in onto my closed, heavy eyelids.The limbs stiff,not wanting to be budged.The mind foggy,unable to comprehend reality from dream.Time has escaped;I'm in my own world,at my own sluggish pace.The muscles whine to be stretched,but the bed won't allow it.The covers laying on me in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/537141/ The sweaters irritated his cold hands. He wasn’t surewhy he had to set up the sweaters, or why management decided to start sellingsweaters, but he knew better than to ask questions. Many employees came andwent, and he was still amazed at the fact that he still put up with that God-forsak.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/536271/ The professor dismissed us and I packed up my papers and books. TheCreative Writing classroom, while cramped, seemed pretty empty. Most studentsstill fumbled with their loose notes and their backpacks by the time I hadzipped my pack up, put my mechanical pencil in my pocket, and walked toward .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/535950/ I had just turned three months old.My mother looked at me- those dead eyes,she icily said, "Show me you're worth it."She pushed me out of the nest, my only home.She watched; I screamed, flapping at the wind.I didn't know where it was, I'd plummet.I think I saw God watching me fall that day-His lovin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/522282/ I scurry downpast the bushes and the trees.I scurry downthrough the scattered piles of leaves.I scurry down'cause I'm a Caterpie.I'm a Caterpie.I see the shadow looming overhead.I feel the wind blowing at my back.That b*****d's keen eye-critically landing his sky attack.I'm thrashing to the ground,k.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/521108/ I see your face reflected in the window,the mask from All-Hallows-Eve.The night we strolled unprotected,ripping our hearts from our sleeves.Buried in the Masquerade.We arrived at the partybuzzing from my stash of Daniel'sSo many people dancing and flailing around-watching as your stomach reels.The s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/518961/ A local program’s attempt at boosting Auburn’s economy has achieved a bit of success and has even gathered quite the following in the community.“Basically, we wanted a way of getting our youth more interested in going out and spending money,” founder of the VIP program, Tyler.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/517435/ Oh my sweet Brandy;Why have you stopped working?Back when she left, you worked wonders.You filled me with gleeand confidence.Now- nothing.It's as if I have become numb.How is it that nothing makes me feel,other than my lonesome.That sinking solitude;that poison infecting my lungs.Why must I die alon.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/513231/ It's February 15,The love is over.The sun has set.The casket has closed.We knew this day would come.Ever since we dragged our feet from that office.That silent car ride home-the engine even quieted in its sadness.That's when the countdown started.The clock ticked and tocked-every echo shaking my cor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/513230/ I'm going senile,but I don't know why.It could be because 1932 is getting further awayor because of my loss.I don't remember much anymore.The days blur together;Thursday feels like Saturday,but most days feel like Sunday,my least favorite days.You'd always put on your dress and matching bonnet-simpl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/513228/ It was a hot afternoon. Theytend to be in June, especially here in Texas. The sun was staring down at me,spiting me for daring to try to avoid its gaze. I sought refuge in the one airconditioned building within the town, the schoolhouse. It was a rather largebuilding. It was split in 3 wings.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506093/ The proposition for healthcare reform is simply preposterous. Reforming this golden age of American healthcare would surely destroy all that we hold sacred in this land of the free.If you take out deaths caused by car accidents, violent crimes, heart disease, cancer, and amputation infection; Americ.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506084/ In a recent “scientific” study, it was found that Pizza from Paradize pizza cures cancer.This study was orchestrated by two college students who are a part of the “We hate cancer! Club” (WHCC) at GRCC. The students were in lab coats, making it a scientific study. “.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506082/ Sarah Palin, former governor of Alaska and vice president candidate, has been growing in popularity as candidate for president due to the 2012 Mayan doomsday theory.In a national poll, the most popular reason for supporting Palin was, “2012, bro!” with 89%, followed by “I saw Who&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506081/ Progressive talk, commonly called “Prog-Talk” is a genre of talk that was developed as an attempt to elevate talk radio to new levels of artistic credibility.One of the most popular prog-talk radio stations in KPRO 973, known as “Teh Prog” or “KPROg.” The theme of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506079/ The citizens of the state of New Mexico have voted to make diabetic marriage illegal.This vote was met with some opposition, but was ultimately beaten; 73% for the ban, 24% against, 2% for Ron Paul, and 1% for Ralph Nader.Diabetic people are those with diabetes. Diabetes, in the science and medical .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506076/ AC/DC, a musical group founded in the 1970’s, has sued a local 5th grade student for plagiarism.Jake Littleton, a student from Sawyer Lake Elementary School, started learning how to play the drums as apart of the school’s music program.Jake thought he was learning a simple rock beat. Pro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506075/ After many years surviving through the underground snack food circuit, Bugles are still being circulated throughout the United States, and are on an uprising against the evil PepsiCo.Bugles are everyone’s favorite corn chip snack from General Mills foods. They come in a variety of flavors: Smo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506072/ Many students have different methods in which they learn the material for their classes.These methods have been used by many instructors in order to help their students better understand the more complex material. These can be seen through the use of audio, visuals, and audiovisuals.Some other metho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506070/ This just in: Two weeks ago, local student, Robert Knutzen found a dollar outside of the Holman Library.When asked about his find, Knutzen said, “It’s absolutely amazing! I can buy four whole cigarettes with this!”Robert’s excitement didn’t stop there. Upon arriving at .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506061/ Ever since his one week at number one with This is Why I’m Hot, the hip-hop artist, MIMS has rarely been seen or heard from.Our research team spent months surveying Jamaica to find out what MIMS has been up to.  This effort was not successful. But, after attending a seminar in a local Red.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506058/ A few weeks ago the Florida coast was devastated by a metaphorical hurricane. President-elect Barack Obama was nowhere to be found for sentiment or comment on the damage left by the hurricane, which has been deemed the name “Hurricane Simile.”“Hurricane Simile was like a giant vort.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506038/ Due to the economic crisis, many school districts have been trying to figure out how to cut back on spending.The Kent School District has resorted to cutting back its education program as a means of saving money for the rest of their programs.The district was going over how to cut back on spending, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506031/ In a survey conducted among over 150 youth groups throughout the country, it was found that 100% of those surveyed believe in God.According to this research, it has become apparent that the concept of atheism has been run out of existence."Atheism is nothing more than that of folklore, it's nothing .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506029/ The slate can't be wiped cleanthe word still appearsand haunts what used to be memyselflaughing at mewith every swipeevery spit shineevery scratchthe words grow bolddarker and thickermy mind deterioratesThe word overwhelms what's left"Failure" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506027/ I have foundthat "upon" has foundits way into my everyday speech.Upon this knowledgethis question arises:Is it that I think higher of myself,or that I frown upon its nonuse? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506025/ Oh reality,where have you gone?It feels as if you have leftfor good.Is that you thereon the ground before me?Broken-shattered into so many pieces?I'd put you together,but I am numb.I cannot feel your presence anymore.And as the colors of this horrid world fadeI cannot even detect your true shape.It'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506023/ Downhill,winding road,my foot on the gas.I see the cliff,I see the turn-I want to go straight.To defy gravity for that split second.To feel like I have control over somethingin this downward spiral.Even if all I control is the end.I turn-Why? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506022/ I apologize, familyI'm sorry, friendsbut this is the way it has to beone less mouth for you to feed.In the years I've been here,I have learned from you all.And don't think I am selfish,I am doing this for you- To wishfor my return or to travel timewon't help anyone anymore.As the Buddhists say, "To .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506019/ Who is this before me?The familiar faceso like mine.The years peeling away-My past self staring at me"Are you me?" I imploreThe blank look in his faceof apathy and distaste"I don't know who you are."the response I feared.A subtle tear rollingdown my paralyzed cheek.His shaking head-of disappointment.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506015/ Whisper sweet nothings into my ear.Your sparkling pebbles in my eyes,your hair ruffled on the pillow.My dancing fingertipsgliding along your hips.Your eyelids bat slowly,your peaceful grin cemented.The ecstasy hanging in the air,this moment lasts forever.The covers pulled upgracing your shoulder.You.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506014/ Happiness is a distant memory.Pleasure is a myth.Pain is reality.Yesterday is a bitter dream.Tomorrow, a sweet nightmare.You are my yesterday,my fair maiden,where did I go wrong?You are my myth,but without you is reality. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506011/ I look into my eyes,my reflectionin this dirty mirrorand ask, "Why not?"I hold a knife in my hand,my cold fingers,my cold facereflected in the knife's shine.I ask, "Why not?"I standon the edge of the roof.The wind blowing across my face.The ground spiraling under me.I ask, "Why not?"My foot lifts,as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506006/ I  dreamt of you last night.Your angelic voiceechoing in my ears.Your words appearing to mein the most beautiful grammar.My heart poundingfast with excitement.My mouth conformingto a smile not seen in months.Your face resonating in my mind.Your smile slowly fading into the pastas the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mike.espinosa/506002/