http://slow.writerscafe.org/WilliamCoad The original writings of author William Coad en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776043861 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Where it for nothing,Save salvation walkingbeating like waves on a shore.Sometimes I'm thinkingthat people aren't blinking.“Fore,” cries the golfer, “Fore.”But what if I told youthat interpretationstraddles the linebefore inspirationand what if.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1650533/ Things of numbersleave your homesand all creationsfar alone.Things that add upor sometimes notalways fitwithing one shot.Sometimes countingnumbers and stuffcome togetherand sometimes not.Creatures of numberslogic and a matrixleave your homesfar alone. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1646492/ Sometimes I wonder what would informyouof how I could be so informed.If how I entered this building arboresyoumaybe just do all your chores.What if I asked you to go on a weekendfar and away past the cloud?Now that we're up there my mind feelscleanerand now I'll say t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1642899/ Clicking and the tickingalways with the tickingpeople and they're clickingjust like rotten teeth.Someone ought to pull outI'm not sure how now,somewhat ought to pull outjust like rotting teeth.Sounds like the cornersand edges of the membraneare working from their quarters.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1638231/ Whittlebugwhittlebug,cutting away.Pulling apartat an effigy.Whittlebugwhittlebug,why won't you stay?Chopping and slicingso no one can stay. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1633389/ Though the road is longand the dust is thickwhich lines this pathas we stick so close...Though the sun has setand moon long deadthe forest pathno far ahead and morose.Though the fog rolled backinto the nightand nothing's leftof our guiding light on the post.The ro.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1615620/ With withering glancesand accentuated romanceswith weather both clear and grayWith water so clearwe're left unsure ifthe water is there or its not.With wetter sandbetween toes and handsthat stops the tide coming in.With wonderful housesmade of things we foundlaying .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1609636/ Blocks and squaresstripes and linesperfect boxes that cannot defineIt came as a speckthe tiniest sparkadding and adding to itself untilsharp.Building on little lightsand rhyming them too.Defining the foolish plightsof definitive view.With that squareblock you'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1604448/ On a shore by the edgeof a dark gray pondmuddied with misery and introspectiontheir grows with roots deepinto the clay covered banka tree of willow and pity.It sits as it thinksunder overcast skiesabout worlds and their wivespassing it by.It stands there and growsov.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1596596/ Paranoia eatingeating awaytrying so hard just to keep me away.Fear of thingsthat I cannot accept,fear that I can't keep my fear incheck.Terror inspiredby the heart of glasswhich stands in the way of my ironcast.Horror that leadsto the darkest of placessomehow I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1575440/ People standing,in a rowall of them screamingand not one of them knowswhat for.People fightingwords are writinga million trickles in a streamnot one of them knows what they meanor why.One man's darkthe other's whitewomen, men, religions, gays and theright.All disa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1567197/ But its not like I stoodon the tip of my tongue,and waited for these wordsto play me for fun.And its not like it took youmore than one hourto ascend to the pinnacleof my Kinsian tower.So it's not that we weresquirrels to each others birdand it's not like we werecarried .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1560779/ Though none of us careto admit that we do,everything we fearthat will come trueis that we will be infected,and fall to the floodthat our veins will befilledwith the deadly black blood.Though we livefor many daysall the tomorrowscan be taken awayby just one drop,in poi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1554841/ So much for reason.I guess its a fact,there is such a thingas white and black.And some much for passioncompassion and so on,its not really a thingthat we can grow on.And so much for heart achethe pain that we feel,and so much for exaggeratedsituations unreal.We li.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1549886/ You've got to love the feeling thatwhen left alonewhen left in blackwhen feeling nothing but walls andwallswhen everything feels like somethingsmall.I love the feeling when world is hardlike rocky crystals encase my heat.The feeling of feelings that lacks aword... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1545979/ Vacuous voids of nothingand sensuous sounds of naught.Emptiness needs no meaning,and what it had we forgot.Were there no reason or age old timethat in the right season caused you toclimb.What if the very nature of nothingwere ever and after the cause of something... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1535098/ SometimesI wonder whyWe all live on a windon a breeze.Sometimesit feels likethe tempesting wavesof the seaBut no matterthe weatherbe it heat or hailor the sun.No matter weather we're togetheryou know its for youthat I run.Sometimeslife feels like.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1531966/ In the middle of a seaon an island made of pearlssits a tower made of diamondsand the heart of a girl.With a thousand feetbetween ground and skyone needs only lookup to realizethat the person whose heartin that tower beis something of remarkand truthfulness and free... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1525150/ Lightas it flashesacross the electrically lit skyWavesas she crashesacross the seas as they writheShadowas they're castover shapes and forms etherRainas it fallsmaking puddles deeper and deeper.Watching the water trickledown the back of your spine.There's .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1520607/ The pulsing,the weaving,the unnerving mass.The anger,the hatred,they cut you in half.The turmoil,the tantrum,the oil on water.The fire,and the ice,and they're growing shorter.These manufacturedmachinationsof fire and heat.The distractions,concatenationand untenable feast.What have we doneto take thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1515820/ Fools fooling aroundmaking fools of fools they found.Cannot wait and cannot wearcannot think 'cause fools are there.Wearing nothing but wearing timefeeling something that's called sublime.Rolling around me as if I could stopfooling around me, I wish I could stop.Fools - fooling and faffing.Waves - w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1508113/ Go off in to the nightmy friend.At long last your journey's reachedits end.How this cruel world must havelost its sting.How this cruel world no longer bitesand that's the thing.One last beautiful moment of life.Just a moment to know that everything'sgonna be alright - ohI'm reallyreally gonna miss y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1504937/ The dark had betterbe afraid of me tonight...'cause I'm coming.The dark had better leave on a light for me...'cause I'm coming.The shadow that stretchesand fears the dawn,those loathsome wretchesand vile spawn.The dark should damn wellbe in fear of metonightThe dark better tuck itself inreal ti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1498754/ So many faces and they all look thesame,so many races and they're all just agame.So many places and that is a fact,So many bridges but they're allcracked.So many reasons to be cooked justright,so many nightmares to wake me at night.So many job offers, I don't know whi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1495722/ There was notime or place,no season orcolour or countenance.There was noethical rhyme or pace,no theoreticalbeings mountainous.No heaven orhell or in between,no earth no sky�" no moon or mars.There was noreason for anything,but just sothere wasn'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1492489/ You lie on the floorlike a thousand brokenpieces of glass and china.You reflect the lightlooking just right,but was it worth the war?The dreams of so manylead to so fewthings that we were making.These people, so many,with their hearts, so heavy,feel like they're bre.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1489044/ That plastic box,you keep on your shelf-you keep to your self,but I want it back.Little plastic box,with a red plastic lid-it wasn't very well hid,but I want it back.You see, when I gave you the contentsI thought you'd be more respectful.You see, when I gave you my co.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1485707/ I am not young,I am not old.I am not weak.I am not bold.I am not tall,nor am I short.I am not a freakor some piece of artwork.I am not man,nor woman, nor child.I am not strong,weak, or mild.I am not anger,or calmor the between.I am not intellect,or foo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1482293/ Mummy always told meto stay awayfrom the bad man.Five foot, ninehorn-rimmed glasses,and you had him.He would always stop to talkat my lemonade stand.Not sure what she was thinkingHe was always there drinking-My lemonadeSeveral years laterI still stayed awa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1475037/ A sixty year old woman stands in her kitchen. She blares the Beatles final album, Let It Be, with total disregard for the people in the apartment complex with her, but it doesn’t matter. She screams at her children- those who are back here visiting during the Christmas holiday- because one of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1471118/ “What have you,What have you?”The mockingbird cried.“Where's going?Where's growing?”He said with a sigh.The creature flew outover hill, tree, and vale.He saw his friend woodpecker,locked in his jail.But who shall be fearful,as radiant in his .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1471113/ When waking eyesNo longer seethe reason theycame to be.When coldest heatsbegins to ache,when this ancient echostarts to break.When things no longeras they seemand this old lifean empty dreamWhen sky is emptystained with blackand all of timebegins to roll bac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1457501/ I never wantedthe mirrors reflectionto shine like the rays of the sun.I never wantedthe tools of introspectionto cut through my gaze just for fun.No I just constructeda ten thousand foot towermade of match sticksand cheese dipped cauliflower.His waste line reduced,h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1454394/ What if we saw thingslike a picture bookall these pictures,but no frame.What if we heard thingscountless fixtures,and nothing'squite the same.What if Wonderland?What if places were true.What if underhandbargains and deals were through?The world is a picture bookpainted by a man.He thinks the work is.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1450959/ Oh humanity, humanitythe limit is no longer the sky.You climbed all up the food chain,and you really got quite high,but lest you all forget now,there's still some favor in my eye-so don't forget humanity,there's higher than the sky.Oh humanity, humanity,you come in all differen.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1447621/ Come to me lover,that we may share,an evening together,without a care.I know that I've saidsome cruel things,but you know and I knowyou give my mind wings.I cannot take off without you-I dare not even try.You say so many wonderful things,but don't give me a way to fly... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1444372/ My lady grey,She keeps me at home,she keeps me at home,she keeps me at home-My lady grey,she keeps me at home,and won't let me out to play.My lady grey,She keeps me at home,she keeps me at home,she keeps me at home-My lady grey,she keeps me at home,she keeps me home all.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1437597/ The doors,the door, they close on me.The doors, the doors,and how?The doors,the doors,they close on me,across my mountainous brow.Sometimes,sometimes,you wonder why,the doors, the doors,they close.But times,sometimes,they close on me,and leave nowhere to g.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1434184/ I dreamed of a roomand a thousand starsWith whirls of menand their motor cars.I dreamed of housesall pristine and whitelined up so straightin the scorching light.And this chimera room-it filled with blackand people whose faceswere revealed by a crackin the sun.I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1413783/ This poem is just like watching clouds... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1413780/ Mylove, Myonce and only love,Howmuch I wish I knew you before the rain,Whilethis world is falling to the ground,Andall I have is pain.Butyou,Myonce and only love,Howmuch I beg we’d loved in the day,Nownight has come and shadows fall,Andnothing's left.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1413779/ Men in the gym,trying to get trim,trying to live his dream.When did he win?Why work out your shin?For a man that is so clearlyobscene.A friend of mineonce told me.That all the boys in the gymjust want a slice of thepie,to be just like that guy,and that's fine... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1413777/ The strings all hangin a linesway back and forthin perfect time.Let me pullupon those string.I'll make the musicyou just have to sing.Watch now so closelyfor if you do not,you may miss this next trick,my detestable plot.Let me pull upon your heart strings.Just l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1401233/ A short story about bad choices and their consequences. Be warned the story includes themes of rape and violence. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1400056/ This is actually a song too!!! If you want to learn how to play it I have more musical information on my blog: http://williamcoad.wordpress.com/2014/08/06/poem-in-hollywood/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1396819/ When sky is black,and sea is red,when none look up,for sun is dead.When earth is scorched.And life is waste.When the few left run,fleeing in haste.We were still stunned,and left in aweof how beautifulwas the end we saw.When I lay bleedingon bed of haywanting n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1391918/ A poem about things that cannot go together. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1391572/ Your antics,I love your antics,I love how you and I justclick.I love the little thingsyou do,The little games we play,I love the little movesyou make,I love how you sway.I love your antics,I love our antics,I love how it all justclicks.I love how we talk,We .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1382341/ 'Twas naught but dessertand sea of sand.Rolling wavesand yet dry land.Amidst- our girland her prize:the land she sought to seewith her own two eyes.She wandered hard,day and night,to keep out the dessert sun'sburning eye sight.But directionlessshe wandered forshe did not knowwhat she was lookin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1379315/ A poem about what keeps me awake at night http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/WilliamCoad/1377433/