http://slow.writerscafe.org/Jabba The original writings of author Joshua Carl Cruz en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775969855 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 My son.Waiting on my son, today.Today,my son,is waitingfor me.For me,my son,is everythingI want.I want,my sonto achievehis dreams.It's the first day of the rest of my life.And for the rest of my life I will love him, I will love him as the sun shines upon this earth.Never a force.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1953598/ The beacon's gleaming, from the SouthIt's hellish fire, flames and gouts,As trolls descend from everywhereThe wizard's screams convenes the airAnd goblins pore forth from every holeNow deadened men have dismissed all hopeA dragon's smoke precludes the moatskeletons all tangled in scaling ropes .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1952458/ When the heart is full,the hand is too; Scrying the mood,the head nods along for the ride...When the darkness blooms, and the lighted moon draws upwardsto fall, across your nocturnal eyes... When Gods abandonthe lain offeringsat their hands and feet;Thou hast forsaken m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1947029/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1945827/ i was once an artist's brush,the minstrel's strings in early spring.i was the touch of a pixie's dustfairies sprinkled over children's dreams.i was the hero's humblest hope,i was love's indelible flames.Now i'm so afraid of growing old,I live alone, below my lake.I've since retired as inked quill,wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1945348/ editing work is sucha drag. it kills the ceative process, but ultimately prunes the unnecessaries.  its hard knowing just what to prune, and what to spruce, and what to chop off, completely.  sometimes i treat my poetry like a bonzai tree a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1945194/ Family Game Night http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1944537/ loveis an unjust emotionwe all must fear,for a list of the reasonsi've just written herenumber one...it's almost never ready and it's rarely ever donenumbers two, and three...it effects your work when you're away it wrecks your worth until you're poornumber four...it seems s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1940662/ youth http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1816548/ In the times before writers,there weren't any flies, nor spiders, on earth, there existed only... The Flyers   The Flyers flew, they knew no fear of death, they too, were born of air. They did not really care for rest, if only, but to catch their breath. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1684826/ They have to pay for me to pee on your tupee. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1684373/ Push out to sea Waves, wrestling... Oars, beating... Winds, singing...Push out to sea Oceans, settling... Nights, glimmering... Whales, whispering...Push out to sea With a polly on yer shoulder and yer mateys in yer corner... Past the swooping seagulls screaming...Push out to sea Past the sandy shal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1683932/ ¨Oh, how hard we climb!  To get to that higher road...¨ AnonymousJeremy wasn't going to do it.  He carefully craned his head forward to look down at his shuddering form.  His flip flops were covered in foot sweat.  His palms were wet accomplices to his soles.  He w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1640046/ in our intemperate youthgreat celestial beings pitied our humanitythey opened up the heavens and stars shone down upon us  Their light momentarily lit a dim path on our wayas we crawled, hands and knees through the ages until we embodied knowledge and brilliance &n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1632435/ Why the Writers Cafe'scomputer pagecouldn't saveI couldn't say...Why my cleverest jestswere laid to restwithout a breath I couldn't say...Why I lost everythinglike wedding vows and diamond rings I honetly, could not say...But the screen had refreshed, and as one would guess,&nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1623051/ self descriptive http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1615470/ You are the stone around my neck.A poisoned, amulet laden knife at my back.The voice of disinterest.The hands of time stuck pointed towards death.The pivotal choice of not ever going back.You are the sore that never heals.A pebbled shoe heel.The disaster from which I can't recover.The end all to end.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1615466/ An adult view of the Universe through the child's eye http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1613936/ 6 word essay http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1613610/ Teepee Wheeeeeeeeeee!!! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1610611/ At my days end whennothing is left butto settle in... Itake off my shoes andbake banana bread. Drinking chamomile bya window sill Isip my wet leaves. Dream,my daydreams. Istand by the win dowwhen it rains so,  Ialways end up thinking  of you. I take  my  naps. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1609610/ Drinking bourbon, short and neat.Drinking scotch, tough to beat.Drinking rye for the flavours.Drinking brandy for it's vapours.Drinking rum with my coffee.Drinking tequila to get naughty.Sipping debris from a dirty old glass.Toasting the dregs to the last solemn f**k.Cheers to you crass, pleasureles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1607158/ Legend http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1606324/ Bounty Hunting in Wonderland http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1605327/ WW2 boogie woogie http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1605055/ senryu http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1603951/ senryu http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1603931/ quatrain for the future http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1603928/ qutrain for the future http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1603906/ Senryu http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1603535/ Now andagain I can guess with experienceall writers hate what they write. Including myself in this.  I am not introducing myself as awriter but to this effect I try.  Thisconfession is only to stir the imagination.To stress the sleeping scribe... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1603376/ Just let yourselves on in, my pets,like a herd of wild elephants...Between the lion and hyena guests,I've done caught naught but my very best!Though the party animals did digestthe whole of my alcohol and cigarettes.Snow Leopards purr in leather skirtshoping loudly they're bitten first while Do.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1602797/ Poop on your face!Poop on your face!I am gonna take a giantpoop on your face!You dont know when this poo will take place...Only that there'll be a poop on your face!Poop on your face! Poop on your face!Whatcha gonna dowith a poo on your face?Open up your mouthand give the po.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1602110/ The sign: Neon Red.  Flashing angrily in front of the diner where it sitsfacing an empty black road.  It´s glow reflecting off the wet coal colored asphalt for a few moments, it's red wane pooling like blood in the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1602086/ "Would you like some more water,sweetheart?" The waitress moved in closer drawing nearer to his glass, resting her flat stomach against Jerry's neatly folded hands."N..N...n..no thank you ma'am",Jerry stuttered, clearly absorbed with the position of her body and th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1602075/ The cook was standing at the pick up window holding a plate of hot turkey in gravy sided with parsley, garlic, and scallion mashed potatoes au gratin when he saw the M249 light machine gun open fire toward the ceiling.The room pitched&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1601987/ balcony waterfall puzzle love music paint laugh thinkYou used to laugh.You used to love.You used to paint.You used to think you weren't proud but now your puzzles tumbling down towhat sounds like a broken waterfall.The sound of music echoes out from the balcony where you used to laugh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1601520/ You can see the streets of my youthetched into every furrow of my mouth.From the ugly scars across my browdown to the crowsfeet accentsscratched around my staggered gaze.You can get a good view of the neighborhoodin which I was raised from the angle of my slouched shouldersand the exact spot wh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1601282/ Alert! Alliteration ahead.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1600689/ There is nothing left in this world for me.I´m going down to the sunless beach.No rains, no love, no seeds, no breezes.Where fountains or leaves or mountains can't reach me.The lifeguards will be piled up like dead bats in the air.and human zombies of earth will surf on their Not one thin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1600588/ Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin!repugnant munchkin magician sitting atop his spindle feeling tallweaving the steeple's hay straw into gold,  abominably nefarious, and whereas any foe is perilous, this one made the task at hand seem corporeally effortless. I swear! I could lie!&n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1600053/ in the fall in the leavesin the trees in the groundalways you'll find me turning aroundbeneath your very feetmy body will be the Earthwhere I wait silently patientlystone http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1599982/ You knock the taste from my mouth.You take the joy from living.You betray what's nice and destroy it all with your despair.You have cleaved my heart in two.You brood often enough, under layers of ire, caked in cigarette smoke.You crush my hopes between nimble fingers.You cut my dreams into.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1599356/ Short poem inspired by the movie Drive starring Ryan Gosling http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1594259/ Cheryl pulled slightly back when it appeared the glass would overflow, making damn sure not to spill since her boy counted on Cheryl's tips to feed him and clothe him.  She smiled lightly allowing her thoughts to momentarily drift towards the many wonderful places they´d eventually go onc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1593208/ Mounting the train and waving back, you trailing behind the already moving carsshouting up at my window, I will wait for you! I love you! My lungs take in the steam of the train mixed with your lavendar scent. I smile wide knowing you will. A thousand years from now if we returned som.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1592782/ Covering my mouth with hishis face changed into tentacles http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1592578/ Two western wranglersWrestle alligatorsNeck deepIn S**t's Creek http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1592560/ my family´s outings:dad's relatives shoutinggreat grandchildren poutingwhile Aunt Karen's topis half eaten by mothsthe hot sun ricochets loudlyoff grandfather's face,and out of the white, billowy cloudsI'm making animal shapes. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1592424/ All is the sea.Swimming ashore,over your pouring hair- your cool resting face to what I call home, I cut my sole on the reef below...All, is the sea... Crimson bathing,wading, trailing offtangling with the waves and the occasional sharks...All, is the sea...What wi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Jabba/1592379/