http://slow.writerscafe.org/mrbuckhout The original writings of author Michael Atherton en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776054734 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Ready for winter to be over! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1506141/ No MoreNo more pleaseThanks for the dishBut no more, thank youWe had our funBut you and me are overWe’re doneNo moreThat bad bad badBad man sitting just behind meHaha, you make me laughJust like my neighbor laughing at the connecting wallAnd the siblings.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1440232/ I hope I hope I hopeI will become a birdAnd if notI hope I hope I hopeTo be myselfTo be me,To claim me for myselfAnd if notI hope I hope I hopeI can hope some moreAnd if notI hope I hope I hope http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1440219/ Lyrics I'm trying out... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1423056/ We were written outOn cave wallsStilled in colors andEchoed callsWritten outOn cave wallsKilled in numbers whenDarkness fallsAh OohAh Flame the riddled landAh OohAh Love will stand the sandFear in the moon yellowedLife in the dayRacing to our freedomWith sins that we madeWe were painted onOur c.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1386475/ A One Act dealing with the traditions we impose on relationships, the insecurities, the manmade restrictions... like a prison. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1382822/ A Quick One Act I wrote a while back, just to look at a bunch of different characters. Tell me what you think! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1382816/ As with most big questions, I weigh them with a write-out, a sketch-out, or a good conversation with a family member. This time, I wrote it out at 2am. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1382815/ Though nodding to Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken," it's a poem about my own self-discovery, becoming more whole in realizing just how uniquely my (and evidently everyone else's) path unfolds. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1381808/ I should edit this when I'm sober, but I'm happy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1378048/ Wrote this Who-Knows-How-Long ago! Posting it on here because I can still connect to it. Home will always be home. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1377359/ A random, late-night scrawl I made last November. Didn't know what else to do with it. Maybe to be spoken? http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1377340/ You talk to fill the distance betweenThe top of your headAnd the ceiling.Sometimes, there is no roof. Your roots are firmly plantedAs mine are; in familyAnd yet your islandFesters in Neverland It seems that you’re stuckWaving out the rearviewWhile I’m catapultingOnwardUpwardAwa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1377337/ DesperatelyWading out of the numbersThe sky blue cornerMocks itselfIt all mocks meSealed up in a letterTurmoil is not an expressionIt's a state in compressionYou'd think we could Talk it overSo dusty, this explosionBored with a chuckleYou hiccup into Pastels not bold enoughTo breatheThere'.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1377333/ It makes me acheTo see your foot shake,To feel our furniture weigh lessThan when I was crawlingIn diapers you endured.I'd apologize if I had had the words,But infants can't teach parentsUnless, we hope, simple mindsCan provide simple answers.It all has that mellow sepia tint:A gazing ball glow.Boxes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1370919/ You disgust meYou white snake beastYour heart so gnarledAnd your calloused white teethFood for thoughtYour facts for rotYour blood will clotLike your mooring knotTake your shipOut to seaI don't want to see your face againSail your flagsFar from meThis web has been a chase againRun freeRun freeFree f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1370909/ There's something else on my mindBut let's not talk about that nowCascade collapse outVerbal overloadHide to fit the moldRushing and gushingOnwardScraping up the piecesInto the flat waste binPicking up the piecesOf a life repeatingYou can't separate the twoThe love of your motherAnd the minute thing.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1370587/ A manifestation of impressionist work ripples beside me. At once, the lights and houses and whispering trees are whole, at second glance they are distorted. The hum of a motor growling like a demented lion drones by. I can't get away from the humanity of it all. Stirring in the dark buoyant shapes .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/mrbuckhout/1370585/