http://slow.writerscafe.org/TheModulator The original writings of author m.s.early en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775975423 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 If anything remember the trip;the flamingoschasing me away,the Himalayan camelseating everything,the lazy kangaroos.And that I made you laugh.Remember my pausesand you between them.You and your sister have been the only ones to stop me still in my tracks.You can alway.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2768011/ His mother named him Micafrom the words of the Dakotabecause his essence transcended all the others in many packs.His mother's gaze;she found in him the passion of the poets,an impossible wisdom,the hunger of the great intellects,and an unyielding fear she would never understand... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767749/ She is stopping me from sleeping.Awakening the knots in my stomach.And yet it pleases me. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767744/ He saw the truck.He swerved.A thousand familiar faces crowded his mind. Roland cut his name into a Birch tree,then a heart, and Reginaat Palmor's pointon senior skip day.They smoked pot and swam in the lake. He ran out of the road. The tires kicked up gravel;no shoulder. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767697/ the wind came.then the rain. hard and vengeful. blasted through the woods. snatching leaves. hurling limbs.howling like a lover scorned,an anguished grendal's motherover and over again. from the east spinning to the north and back again. hating everything. so angry. until.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767560/ the dial feverishly, generously takes my finger with the spiralthe number has been known by heart for weeks now the nervous ring one then two then three until hello's relief it's umbilical cord coils in knots beneath the bedroom door http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767541/ Your silence drains me. You're waiting your call. I'm picturing your faceblank smiles,blank eyes.I can't grab it. I'm reading you while it's late. Where is the map that belongs only to you?Do you purr when you sleep?Do you turn over in the morning just before the sun crosses th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767474/ The trees were disjointed until the fogCreeping closer to forest center Now fingers towering over a palm of mist.The treetops a canopy Perched on their ancient fingertips.The morning called;Its creatures ever chirping,Awake despite limited visibility. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2767468/ hungry for inspirationand folding clothes on the back porch,she is certain she missed the lifeof a gypsy somewhere in her past. and somewhere off that missed exit she is certain that the skies are bluerthan these she knows. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2123747/ there will never be ice on these windowsthese memories are thermal and well preparedlike flower stems and leaves attracting the warm light of our love resting lightly on the sillsthere will never be dust or cobwebsthere is momentum in the moments we sharefor our sails fill full of th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2108567/ she walked in like ghost mist hovering over a lagoon. her voice soothed me like moonlight in autumn when it is captivated by bird calls in her eveningwe spoke of cuisine and restaurants while walking past boutiques.she touched me with the hand of an old soul.a thousand year old vision.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2101938/ the moment of our last touchacross your inviting curves rolling, rolling;my thirsting fingersmemorizing each;remaining unsatisfied, warming rapidly,rescinding never. you smile knowingmy craving is maddening,braced on your elbows, arching,waiting, moistening like a daisy i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2101544/ i cannot love you here anymore.there are no more birds of spring. the trees in the arbor my grandmother nurturedhave melted into the soil. the hills do not sing. the apple trees have no fruit.the flies have come. mice can be seen in the midst of the estate. i am aching in my hear.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2090898/ for a momenti was able to be still.hearts flew out of my handand i was able to see everyone.i lacked everything comfortably,and i could hear peace.there was no loneliness only echoes of laughter healing all that shared it so. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2085935/ my binds are cuffed to this red clay mudQueen Anne's lace rising and bendingfrom the wind in the westleaning towards the Atlanticthe sun is at meridianit is the glory of the dayit is beautiful between the two willows in the fieldbirds are making love there flying, dipping over th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2072394/ my thoughts are wandering mostly where your curves are soft,lending me to crave;lying to me on a deceiver's tongue,revealing a dream that is only best served undreamt.where i rise is where i want your curves to be, bending to my whim, collapsing in my clutch, tasting me. where wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2071858/ victor talking machinemsearly 2018/09/08i used to listen to your songs crossed legged in your living room floorwhile the sunshine beamed through your three square windows on your front door reflected on dust particles like weightless shards of silver in the aircaught poppa’s ci.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2058800/ I crept outside like a vandalA Peeping Tom on the outside looking inFeeling like a lover undiscoveredLike a dream that’s never beenI looked up at the moon and wonderedHow do you know when to glowWhy do you bother when no one understandsDoes it even matter anymoreI’ve .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2058574/ They write songs for the deadSitting on the stones and sandWhile the smoke from the car bombIs still warm,A dark frown In an otherwise peaceful sky. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2055637/ i saw a barren world on the stones of Afghanistan,the sand capped mountains rose without life, without breathbut not gasping,nor dying,nor alive endlessly for miles in every directiona river to the east, green and uninviting,an empty, hopeless dreamcutting between the ledges e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2045022/ he closes his eyes when he sings because he becomes his own ghostand the world separates into a lifeon the other side of every windowi know how it feels to disappear with everyone watchingon the waves of his voice is where i lose the years,find myselfas a child in the backsea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2035914/ i imagined her voice falling like the whole world upon meand bursting into a thousand pieces.she wrote to me, “speak to me in music”and the sound of a thousand singing childrenin the temple choir rang relentlessly in my rattled cage.i pretended not to noticebut the temp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2033250/ the trees are empty.the woods are quiet.the ribbon of creek running towards the highwayonly speaks when i hold my breath.the moss snuggles the edge of the bank;sweet to my probing fingers,cool and alive and forgiving. there is rusted, jagged, industrial iron remnants of an old mill.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2033143/ the crashing waves were not muffled by the morning fogseeping into my fabriclike your kiss that never met anythingbut a thought of minean unexpected signal blurred blinking on the horizonas forever waves continued crashing,pulling the sand from beneath my feet in the summer i saw y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2033009/ Do you see in the inky skyThe blinking eyes in the tell tale seaThey are blips between the “you and me”The your, the myThe there, the whyWhite light is bent into infinityBe it broken pointsCelestial divideLet poets see what to believeSuch stellar dust does slightl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2028829/ She asked me if I'd love herEven if the whole city burnedAnd I replied I will love youWhile the heat tortures theMelting air in the cramped subway trainsI will scream for youWhile my flesh falls like waxInto the burn barrels beneath the overpassAnd I will dip my lipsIn the runoff.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2028292/ When I had the devil on my back They said shake it offWhen I was looking for heavenAnd found the devil in meThey prayed a little harderIt was hard to danceIt was hard to breatheAnd I couldn't shake it offI learned happiness hurtsShake it offI was trampled under the hooves o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2028287/ You want to see your dear museFrom behind a breathless curtainWhere he achesAnd absorbs the absence of love Throbbing alone in his gutless momentsWondering if you are even curiousIf you ever catch your breathIf you ever still your watersIf you could ever feed from himYour dea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/2024437/ The streets by the canal are empty tonight (other than her   other than I   other than the piercing wind winding between these towers).The piercing cold wind that stabs through our scarvessends my hand searching for hers to hurry us along.She clutches like flame clutches to the p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1997740/ syncopated claps on the old skinthe top of the count is were the and is heldthe e is the sixteenth before snappingthe sticks and the crash and the swish and the ting have you heard her sing is a slippery and slurred question at the bar that leaves his fingers sticky after asking sincer.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1960204/ She is writing more than me. Putting pen to paperwith breathy words carried by the wind in her memories. I can hear them, her thoughts, like a steady wind rolling down a mountain and filling a valley, finding a nearby village andbringing leaves like scattered recollectio.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1946231/ man on the moonm.s.early2017-03-22i dressed the poems with flowers carefully with sentimentand dotted each “i” as if lighting a candlein the bedroom by the window on the lampstand in the cornerand crossed each “t“ as if plucking a petalfrom the roses i never gave yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1899658/ If my lips were to pronounce your name, much sweeter they be as the sweetness of kisses the Sun lays on each morning.Should the ears of those be softened wherein that sweet, sweet word pierces even hearts waxed, what joy is proclaimed! Concern not yourself, my love, with any waxed murmurin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1893496/ the years before us but preludesent from realms abovenot earthly element, nor ethereal dreamnot even stars precede our love http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1886879/ you’re sleeping through the first snowflakeswafting then resting like the yearsof our timeline.i’m remembering your eyesreflecting my smile the day sunlight settled softlyon your long dark hair.i’m waiting for the morning,waking up beside your hands,the ache of my desirehidden deep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1872324/ i  could stay and surf in your eyesthat catch the moon like wave crests glimmeringmy shiny seascape lover http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1872088/ before long lines on the horizon,before the stars, before the moon,in the empty air between us,a pulse through heaven’s gate,a whisper brushed across her name,and the infinite took up residencein the midst of their hearts united.where ivy latched itself,where its roots demanded ground,along th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1870696/ I'm exhausted; no sleep. Two hours last night.So I made myself put work down and go out. I'm at the coffee house, having a fish taco, people watching, listening to a violin whine in an old timey mountain song. The sun is just coming out. It's been raining all morning.&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1868600/ she speaks carefully mostly with her armorwhen shields up focusing intently but then stargazing reckless love language and she is vulnerable until sobering from punch drunk lovei will hold her heart when it is openconsider her charm when she is fragilenetting the voice when her emotions know no boun.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1853789/ I am in the morning again, your hair pushed against. It's scent relentless. Still with me.Sleeping then seeing you, having you, braced and forward. Your hair hanging heavily on each breath of mine. Your intoxicating air is sexy intriguing. I am wanting and captivated. Here. Once .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1850605/ i’m not lonely anymoreand you’re to thank for teaching mehow to write without the templatethe dust of the stars has not settledon the keys of my tear stained typewriterlike steam off the pondhanging in the air like pharoahsoaking my morning airi want to believethat you will share this wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1848117/ it’s wonderfully lonesome knowing she’s writing againher sorrowing pen is cooing as the six a.m. mourning dovelittering the driveway with those troubling memoriesthinking of her driving alone wishing the road wasn’t so cruelthis path and the irreconcilable differencesfickle and dem.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1835063/ i decided to wait for the moon, but it never came.the sky surprised me with an overcastlike the time you mentioned me in your closing credits(i had forgotten you knew how to pray)the moon that never came was silent,hushed by unexpected thunder of a mid-august storm.more impressive were the lightenin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1831279/ perched postures on the light linefrightened by the shutting doorcaught by the wind just before autumnthe temperature dropping nicely unlike the summer beforewe shrank together in front of the window unithumming its mechanical one-note-songbut now the leaves are palingto the light green pleasant ton.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1830838/ She rose from my ashes;      Cleansed me,            Failing not to remove all fear. Her hand touching through thewalls of my flesh made clear… I saw her eye diamond star leap.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1827180/ the sound of our horses was thundering over the east ridgethrough the fog.i was stuck behind the kitchen window, the one over the sink,sipping coffee, dreading what the afternoon was bringingthey were nearing the feed bins. the november morning would be belting from their nostrils in steaming p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1821082/ this voice makes the touch of silk or satin indifferentit is glabrous like a gleaming spring leafserene as a love incantationit wished me goodnight from beyond a pale tapestry though no night could gain rest from its equable fabric easily stirring my soul http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1780011/ there is a reason that you are in cleveland and i am noti would ask you to marry me and even though in my fantasy i give you no choiceyou would say no and i would go out of my ever lovin’ mindand of course you would be right, your poetry is smarter than mineand you’re always right. you&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1778261/ you’re sitting somewhere behind your three dollar shadestrapped in a delusion of righteousnesslike a plate glass window waiting to shatter but it won’t shatter yet...the chemicals are waiting their catalysta manic episode is about to take placeand the shards will be sharp enough to tear .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1778248/ This is a song I wrote for a girl I used to know. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/TheModulator/1778245/