http://slow.writerscafe.org/violetcove The original writings of author Tara en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775995688 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Death rattle breaths . I watch your chest rise and fall as you slip gracefully from this space and time. Eyes flutter hands lose their grasp on mine . I cry out wanting to go with you but I make no sound. One moment here the next gone. A silent prayer is upon my lips as I walk into a life fractured .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1961890/ Cognac flows tonight in this lonely room. I fished the bay tonight and caught a blue. He struggled and fought as I have and I took his life with little thought .And I am the poetess who wrote of loss ! I sigh deeply and take another swig. What has become of me? I recall the girl who sat at the edge .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1954280/ September rain fell hard this season washing away remnants of an August droughtI dreamt I was the sun eclipsed.You were the blue tide of summerParting the lips of her shore.Things seldom change as quickly as we think.We just miss the subtleties.(The sloping angle of sunrayAlong the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1953394/ That nagging loud metaphysical hum has returned and I find myself here once again . Fear and loss loss and fear. The gifts that just keep giving! I am as torn as the pages I rip . The pages that remind me of you lay crumpled in my bed. So yesHere I am again . Huddled . Seeking .shaking. Like he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1951732/ The screen showed white spots where black was supposed to be.I held my breath and watched the doctor's expressions.Is there a course on avoiding facial expressions in medical school?She revealed nothing.It was the the way she kept moving the wand over the same spot that concerned me.I felt it rising.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1481363/ I poured the rose oil under the faucet, lit 5 candles, sprinkled rose petals and watched mesmerized as the oil pooled and swirled putting Picasso to shame. Dipping one foot into the tub, I focused on the heat and how my foot recoiled. How often our bodies seek comfort, run from anything resembling p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1369832/ That existential beast visited last night.At least this time he brought enough wine.Philosophers need their wine, you know. Plato to my left,Sartre to my right,It was a neck wrenching tennis matchand I had the best seat in the house.God showed up at half timeand had the crowd roaring.Ginsberg and Ne.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1358136/ This lilac haired girl sauntered into my officeblack lips in stark contrast to her white skin. I marveled at her colors,the aura of her pain.She looked through me with deep set eyesand we began.Or tried to begin.You see, I knew she was here for meHere I would be studentand she, teacher.She spoke of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1357746/ In the afternoon of youth, the long red rays of summerheld promises never to be broken.Despair hid deep in the black of night.We never thought it could touch us.Do you recall the night of a thousand stars?The scent of oceanthe sound of whitecapssilver bands of lightlapping against the shore?Why does.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1338476/ Still it fades. Like some elusive state of beingonce glimpsed and forever gone.I knew contentment.It was euphoricand now the wind blows fury drivenand I am moved to fly.What lies beneath  peace?What is churning below the surface?Could it be the words rising up againI want you in a green meadow .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1328696/ I've begun imagining the hand of God gently grasping mineas I turn the wheel of my carthrough traffic potentially deadly.He clasps mine again as I write out checkspraying that I will make it through another weekI feel his arm around me as I walk into workready to face the myriad of problems yet to s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1324951/ Been a while since I've taken pen to paper so i will call this a work in progress...a toe in the river so to speak. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1313404/ Honesty. Faith. Virtue. Patience. Forgiveness. Kindness. Love. Gratitude. Righteousness.Selflessness.Compassion.Breathe.Anger. Hatred. Revenge. Lies. Deceit. Grandiosity.Selfishness. Denial. Rage.Doubt. Anxiety.Longing.Desire.FearBreathe.Color. Air. Wind.Sky.Trees.Paint.Hike.Sing. Laugh.Jump.Smile.T.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1262127/ I awakein a bed flush with memory.I toss, turn, feel the push and pull.It is too much.I walk outside and am confronted.The stars are daggerswhipping at  eyesstill tender from loss.The moon mocks mewith her tidal song.The wind , breathRemnants of rain, tears.I apologize to the night,to the dawn,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1219380/ I awaken, his name upon my lips.I plead to return to slumberwhere the pain was dormantand I do not feel his phantom arms around me.The sun, once my morning friendhas now become a glaring invitation to a realityI would rather not face. I find myself here againand think it is too .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1210500/ I have broken too many times.I am missing pieces. The glue is dried and gloppy.I can't seem to find the tools to put it all together again.I find myself on my hands and needs searching for lost things.Searching through endless piles.Papers here, photos there,old newspapers, clothing, books.I just ca.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1183540/ "And Don't you just Love a sunrise?"Ahhh....And with his words I realized...I had forgotten my sunrises.How could one forget the incredible huespink  purple blueand how it rises from your coreand connects you right to the source.You forget all the bullshit.You only remember laughter and awe.The.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1183535/ Wind swept wild eyed straw brimmed womanI know you.Your feet seek the cool sandYour hands seek others.You carry your father's soul.His words echo in your head.Weary sad wondrous womanI know you.Your pain slips out of the side of your smile.Your anger is always an inch away.But your laughter is heard.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1183527/ Don't you know baby, that this IS life?You are still waiting are you not?For your life to start?To get easier? Don't you know sweetheart, that the clock is ticking?You go back way too oftenAnd you jump forward a hell of a lot.Learn the word "NOW" baby.Yes, we can hold your handsigh along with y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1153204/ "As it should be"It is his favorite line.He says it when I am scared.He says it when I am angry.He says it when I tell him I'm tired of being honest.I think I have done it again.Gave myself away too quickly.I have yet to learn to hide.I told someone he is too bright.He has no cornersno dark spaces.H.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1153201/ Slipping back the skin of timethin crisp pages of another erathis book reads in memory its ink dripping with lossToday is not just another day.The date stalks me for weeks."You would have loved him"How many times has this line been uttered?I walk outsideconfront the feathers.Look up. Look up, I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1126272/ Milk drifts in Picasso pools in my coffee cupSome things drift and others fly.I try to figure out which  to do todayand decide its a drifting day.My wings are weary my head is heavy.The wind circles outsideleaves creating mad mandalas in the sky.Candles are litshadowing vanilla walls.This .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1104487/ Soon it will be necessary to leave. He snores and pulls me closer to himas if he has heard my thought.I shake the thought awayand focus on his breath,the beat of his heart.Settling into the warm harborthump thump thump thump.I want to find a name for this hungerwhich has made its home where grief us.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1104483/ Here I sit among a feast of famine,I in my broken palaceHow tender are the hearts which reside here.Outside are remnants of lives lost to naturemattresses where lives began,dressers, electronics, books, appliancesall those things which make up a modern life.I walk among the deserted treasuresand I b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1072056/ "for a friend" http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1048286/ Bloated . floating face up in the pool I had failed to cover. I couldn't face the bloated creature.Couldn't face the failure.It was the same with the mouse and the things needing to be fixed.There are so many things uncovered.Broken.I used to be a fixer.Still am to a certain degree.But some things c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1048282/ i  am discarding all the old words.burning up the memoriessweeping up the crumbs.its the only way you knowto start new.pure.without the backpacks of the paststrangling the possibility of a future.i've got new boxing glovesto go head to head with the inevitable mistrustthat is sure to rear its u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1040953/ Every word. Every thought.i will not say they were for you.I will not imbue them with divinity.I will not romanticize the processas we all know how simultaneously painful and pleasurable this thing we call writing can be.But every single word. And every single thoughtwove a tapestry of a yet to be r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1024532/ Blue and sad...almost bruisedand within the shades of greyI felt regretand when they looked awayI knew caution had taken hold. Yet, in the picturethe one of us,there was not a glimpse of sadnessonly light and joy.Regret faded awayand there was no sign of caution.That's when I knewyou were capab.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1024529/ The silver edges of this abyss lure me into its flames.I may be ready to fall once again.You've captured something I thought was long lost.A treasured thing, engraved with golden prophesy. I had become a shadow, a dark beast of the night,unnoticed and unaware.Dawn, once a resplendent joyturned itsel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1023772/ Even now there are rosebuds bloomingeternal and internalthey stretch and pull becoming tangled in vineand yet they still grow abundant.These are Dali dayssurreal, unperturbed by converging forces.Colours bright and mutedyet sometimes its only haze we see.I see shades of a futureno one can know..I am.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1018259/ There they stood. In utter innocenceSweet pale eyes of curiosity.I am sure they thought the same of me. Mine were wide and I wore a smile.I looked up half expecting to see a blackbird.Or you.And in that momentI knew you were there.I felt the warmth and the way you took my hand when I was small.Curli.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/1015670/ Somewhere in the deep longing of the mind, I've curled into a fetal balltoo tired to keep struggling with this wind. I am Jack's America, Sylvia's child, Charles's last shot of whiskeyand Ernest's sea.I know desire and it is monstrous.It has wings bigger than I'd ever imaginedand it's claws reach in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/758467/ The first pangs of youcame like a heartbeat,first faint, then growing strongeruntil you became like a riverinside of me.If I close my eyes,i can still feel youpushing and pulling meto growand you are still doing that to me.Now, there are still those soft momentswhen you are asleepeyes fluttering wit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/737278/ A poem goes in search of his poet.He has quarrel with a few metaphorsand he hates all of the unnecessary punctuation.He just wants to free flow without stopping or pausing or exclaiming.Even the paragraphs annoy him although he is relievedthat he is not shaped like a wineglass or a Christmas Treeand.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/730425/ There is a place where the sky is blue filamentand the grass is a river.Here fish walk the streets at nightand  stars fall like rain.There is a place where everyone knows laughternothing is real or solidHere owls bloom like flowersand stones line the shore.There is a place where the angels danc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/729345/ So, here I am...it has come to this.I, the parent, now,celibate for practically a year since the husband lefthave to monitor my teenage daugher's sex life.Ahh....life is a cruel circus.I grapple with the need to be the cool momversus the need not to become a grandma too soon.The boy came over today... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/729249/ At the Angelika lives have been known to change.Amazing what a few strong screwdrivers can do to a fool.It was early Spring and I was among the most beautiful people in the world.And one other.It was supposed to be a sacred eveningMorrison filled the screenwith his lizard presence and that engaging .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/721721/ I've started to write "Dear Jesus" letters.I don't really know whybut it has become a morning habit.I have not yet figured out where to mail themso they have been piling up under my bed.I've asked him for fishing tipsI've told him about the sad state of affairs.I've even asked him what to do about t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/683153/ I am a figment of my own imagination.We all are.A perceptual illusory bubble of atoms.I live in a consciousness of stone.Bones and teeth mind and emotion.We house it allneatly wrapped in skin.I know someone made of light.Flashing neon eyesveins filled with blue blood.Animal heartTeeth which gnaw thr.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/682874/ I awoke to phantom thrustsand knew beyond a shadow of a doubtI was being fucked again.This time you were straddling my mind.I heard you both laughingyour bellies shakinglike evil twin buddhaswhile the children cried in the corner.What made it all bearablewas the certainty of your impending spiritual.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/675118/ Now that it is Januaryand the year is 2011I can see the corpse of the future.You might think my sorrow is for my children.It is not.They go about the business of the dayblind and beautiful.I am saddened for the frozen treesspreading their limbs in silent anguish.I am saddened for the great winged bi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/669404/ In the stillness I sense a flow.Waters recede revealing sand.There is art in the simplest grainand I still believe in these miracles.I am hopeless in the hope of it all.I see Picasso in the ridges my vacuum makesas I swirl it across the floor.The wine I sip sweetenswith each new line I write.There i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/652872/ I carry it in my bellyThis silenced howlWhich now has become a song.It exists as flames doFlickering with each gust of air.I prefer it to the ache of loveWhich now reminds meOf a wingless birdRetaining its desire to fly.At nightNow that I am aloneI listen to the worldOnce barely blue with laughter.I.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/652866/ At one time, I knew these paths.How they bended and curvedwith a caustic indifference.I knew the treesaltered by the yearsrings revealing age,rocks smooth and shadedby the flow of the river.I knew the skyeven when it hid the stars when it darkenedthreatened by a distant storm.I knew the wind as.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/634394/ Should the night come with her shadowsto take you awaydo not fear departure.Should everything you thoughtyou knew disappear into a thin gossamer filmlook beyond the small circleyou have createdand allow your hungers to be revealed.Should the colors of Autumnever stop moving you to tears,break y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/634383/ Before I began pushing back at the wallsI held onto things.The beautiful  colors of delusioncan be so hypnotic.I was alone in my own poppy seed gardendancing with the ghost of my freedom.The river knew.The blackbirds knew as well.I think you knew toobut you were too gentleto rip me open.You jus.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/626893/ She closes her eyes when she dancesswaying this way and thathands flailing in the musical air.She is like an island windand we are the treesbending to her will. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/626890/ Living is as inevitable as dying.I think at some point Jesus said it bestbut everyone seems to have forgottenin their softened slumbers.We have forgotten many things of significanceand how quickly we lose track of ships sunkin the murky waters of despair.I bow at the knee of despairand break myself .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/626454/ Tonight I praise the chaoswhich threatens this hollow nest.It is a lovely night for new eyes.I walk in shadowsbluer than my blue bones.Seasons race past metheir cruel smilesas hidden as old childhood wishes.I touch my handand years crumble away.Close your mouths.This is just life.Did someone tell yo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/violetcove/624758/