blueviolin | WritersCafe.org http://slow.writerscafe.org/blueviolin The original writings of author blueviolin en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776029513 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 blue after Jennifer-Leigh Oprihory. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1210363/ photorealism old photo of my older cousin who's been in prison for 10 years. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1210362/ burden when i was born i couldn't breathe right, and  no machine could fix it.  so i held my breath where the wind couldn't find it and promised it would never be taken away. my first kiss was in kindergarten.  this was when the teacher could read, but i couldn't. she w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208812/ i will wake up to a day where these Jericho walls have fallen when this man wakes in the morning he knows the end is nearer the air is still like ice or peace and the birds are allsinging for sex  he rises out of bed a nightmare still clinging to his skin like leftover cigarette smoke and wonders how close the sun really is or ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208810/ speak i.i have not come to die for you. i've come to peel plastic from your eyes look at the drunken mosquito -  fat red alive my blood is not hidden from him or youii. stop. hand them over - your payslip your degree your father's name (if you know it) .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208808/ when i wake at 3am i. when i wake at 3am i listenas the heavy parts of my dreams slip through the cracks in my memory  and pool in a place God visits on occassion the rest i cup in my palms  a fleshy bowl a murky mixture and a tongue sanctified from foolish drink ii. minut.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208806/ when summer is at its ugliest when summer is at its ugliest and there is not enough lipstick to rouge hell's mouth capture God's voice in an old wine bottle in the shade of the greenest weeping willow and say: this is an ice cream truck day God will stretch taffy time around his index finger and tear you of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208802/ our voices will be landmarks brevity, vignettes http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208800/ i would have died, had i not been named i am dusk my belly is full of shadows and silhouettes that tremble when i laughcome sit with me near the mountain never climbed there we can speak of truth  follow the sun's example pour everything that burns into the deep cut of the horizon place your knees upon rocks t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/blueviolin/1208791/