http://slow.writerscafe.org/JesseBooker The original writings of author Jesse Booker en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776105070 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 From the heavens to EarthI've been walking to and fro'I've seen the beauty of ParadiseAnd the anguish of the soulFor when he spoke to theeHe called you not by nameBut said "Helper, hearken unto me"For you are a woe-to-manPartake now the forbidden fruitMy humble offeringFor th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/2763605/ The evening sun casts a long shadowSo, as the light began to dim, I was bornFrom the remnants of a man who once livedAnd died in weakness and despairBetrayed by his Love and left to rotIn the home the created, his personal hellLike the pain of a mother in laborHe suffered the agony of death to give .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1929473/ Sitting, quiet, reading my bookAnd here comes Ed to have a lookTalking fishing, blah blah carsAnd the stuff he drinks from mason jarsOh, what did I ever doTo make you think I want to talk to you?What am I reading? Why, The Descent of ManThe story of how you and I b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1929467/ “Ooooh that smell!” The radio played, “Can't ya smell that smell?” Charlie Kramer stared blankly at the wall as Ronnie Van Zant's words rang inside his head.” “The smell…” Charlie uttered. “What's that, babe?” Melissa Kramer ask.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1886965/ Hear the fat cat playing his fluteAs I dance and sing in my monkey suitThe children laugh, their parents amusedThe cat takes the gold, his soul bemused“Dance harder, sing louder!” The cat exclaims“Keep me rich, and you'll be fed!” He explainsI dance with my he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1885248/ I was at the market when the Wizard came to town. I was minding my business, surveying the goods, wanting to be left alone. Yet, here he came, crystal ball in hand, loudly proclaiming to the people, “Hear ye! Hear ye!” “Mary, mother of God…” I uttered in disgus.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1822851/ Ink blot, ink blot, diddly dee deeInk blot, ink blot, staring at me!This one's a dragonThis one's a pigThis one is sadBut that one's really glad!Conjoined dogs I seeAnd a lady in a dressLovely, lovely ink blotsTry and connect the dotsThis one's kind of scaryAnd a little b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1783690/ Do not admire meFor I had no choiceDo not envy meFor you know not what you seekMeasure what you think of as tribulationAgainst the lingering death of a soulThere is no glamour in rebirthFor no one mourns, save the death of the fleshBehold the empty funeralMy eulogy is not spoke.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1749382/ It was a peaceful Summer night in rural Maple County, Tennessee. The moon lit the clear, starry sky, as the crickets performed there serenade of the night. An occasional victory howl of the coyote could be heard in the distance as it secured its supper for another night. The Stan.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1665043/ You touch me, and I come to lifeYour electricity sparks within meThe fire within me is rifeAnd I am yours, and forever shall beThe flames of passion burn my soulAnd all my nerves become burning embersI burn happily as the flames rollA song plays that my spirit remembersWe dance w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1633320/ Once I was shrouded in darknessGarbed in a cloak of despairI concealed my heart from the worldMy heart was wretched to my eyesA most shameful thing to bareI had resolved to destroy itLove had become a bitter curseAnd affection was a snareSo I vowed to become hollowSomehow you saw through the darknes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1632693/ I have lived and I have diedI have felt the pains of deathBut now, I am forever numbYet, I still remember the dayWhen the agony beganAnd relive it, as if it happened todayThe day when the world changedAnd I along with itI changed, and so did youMy soul and innocence diedAnd your image was shatteredN.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1575061/ The darkness engulfs me againLike the return of an old friendIt lends its sympathetic earAnd listens to my confessionsThough wise, the darkness does not judgeIt is not boastful like the lightNor does it intrude on my heartFor I am my own solutionBut the light is delusionalTrusting the goodness of it.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1555334/ “I think I’llname you Randy and Rupert…”  Ronniesaid.  Ronnie had bought himself a newtoy:  a small, rectangular steel cage,with a trap door that was hooked to a bait block at the far end of the cage.  It was quite efficient, as Ronnie was able t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1544568/ Just a little dream I had. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1541750/ Chapter 3 of The Witches' Prophecy http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1541674/      The moon ushered in another summer night in Pinesboro, Indiana.  The night shift had begun at Mason's Brewery, a small, but lucrative beer brewery in the Pinesboro Industrial Park.    Mason's Brewery had a reputation in the area.  They paid their emp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1532698/      It was a clear, spring day in Greenesburg, Alabama.  Twelve-year-old Christopher Davis was leaving school for the day and beginning his long walk home.  His loaded backpack was already taxing his shoulders and back, and the walk from Greenesburg Junior High to Chri.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1532696/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1531500/      I was taking an evening walk, enjoying the cool, Autumn breeze which had blessed the day.  Children were riding their bikes, the smell of charcoal and burgers filled the air.  The atmosphere was filled with the leisurely enjoyment that only Autumn could bring.&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1522722/ Oh Moon, howyou are romanticizedIn thedarkness, a beacon of lightYou capturedthe hearts and minds of menYou glowwith myst’ry, your light is thin The artisthas cause to flatter youAs sheportrays your soft, cool beautyYou are depictedabove the seas.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1515945/ MisterRighteous, sell me a prayerFor my lifeis a troubled affairI need yourguidance to help me throughI’ll buyyour wisdom and give your due MisterRighteous, please tell me againHow I’mdepraved and living in sinI’m in greatneed of your .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1462885/ “Wake up,daddy!”  Amy exclaimed as she jumped intomy bed.  It was Christmas morning and myfour-year-old daughter had been looking forward to this day sinceThanksgiving.  My wife, Tammy and I hadbeen properly indoctrinating her on the story of Santa Claus.  .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1460246/ So, you have a drink here and thereAs hard as you work, it's only fairThen, why do you shake when you run outWas it a lie, or are you in doubt?Your nose is red, your eyes are yellowFueled by rage from your liquid mellowYour children evade, your wife deniesYou're too blind to see your.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1458955/ "They're just kids..."  I said to the mirror in the restroom of the Ridgewood Nature Museum.  "They're just kids, and it's only for a couple of hours."  Come to think of it, that was part of the problem.  I knew that the nature museum was a joke.  I would take the kids on a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1458567/ Come on in, you're welcome hereIf you're grey like all the restThere are no colors to be foundLeave them behind to be our guestYour anger gives you a red hueThese meds I have may be for youWhat you need is a touch of greyTo help you make it through the dayYou look yellow when you.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1457370/ When I foundyou, you could not flyYour brokenwing burdened your soulYour criesof despair pierced my heartOh, how youlonged to soar the skies When youfound me, I had no voiceNo song tosing, no sound of hopeWhat is abird without a song?A uselessshel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1453734/ Behold thetower which looms in the distanceGaze upon itwith fear and reverenceFor thetower rules over us allFrom the daywe are born, until we die Behold thetower with an orb on each sideThey feed itpower and bring it to lifeThen a swordemerges from its .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1451348/ Tom Wilfred awoke from a peaceful night's sleep.  It was 6 AM, and as he did every morning, like clockwork, he climbed out of bed, walked across the room and turned off the alarm clock.  He then went through his morning routine of taking a shower, fixing his hair, brushing his teeth, and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1425390/ Squawking, gawking, but not really talkingThe parrot is perched in his cageGlaring, staring, but not really caringHow he sends me into a rageWaiting, baiting, but not contemplatingFor just a word from meHe steals my wordLike a clever birdAnd claims it as his ownHe struts aroundWith pride unboundAnd .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1416791/ I was a young man when I married my beautiful Helen.  Though our courtship was relatively brief, we never had so much as a quarrel.  She was so sweet to me, liberal with her tender affection, showering me with gifts, and nourishing me with the meals cooked by her talented hands.  She.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1413829/ The pursuer be up on meLurking where the eye cannot seeHis hellhounds have sought me outTo no one may I shoutFor this destroyer out for meIs one that no one can seeHe follows wherever I may goTo slay me, his only foeAt night, in the wake of my despairHe emerges with his cold, solemn stareIntending f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1412348/ The Siren sings in the moonlightBeckoning to me in the nightHer melody touches my heartAnd there it abides, and will not departI will arise out of my bedAnd like a bridegroom to be wedI’ll go to her, and gaze into her eyesAnd succumb to her serenade of liesThis enchantress, so beautiful in the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/JesseBooker/1411560/