http://slow.writerscafe.org/baum414 The original writings of author Brad Baum en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776047083 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Robert J. Stinson. A member of the 82nd Airborne Division.Or had been, anyways.He lies, now, with tag on toe,Skin punctured, pealed, eventually proddedBy the ice cold metal that hugs his back,Much like the friends of a dayWhere shards of me.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/828714/  My eyes burst open,Quickly adjusting to the dim light that hangsabove my head.Cold steel cuts into blistering skin.I reach down, my fingers running over the metallinks Connecting the rings that wrap around my ankles Andthe sturdy table that sits before me... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/699205/ Frivolouswords meander from my tongue, aimlessly wandering like a lost child, a helplessnomad, searching, unearthing, dull eyed seekers that roam the dark streetsof aself-constructed, invisible city. Strolling amidst stray felines that rummagethroughoverturned trash receptacles.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/692111/ The flower wilts in the early mornMere weeks before the cool winds had laid to restTheir harsh and demeaning attacks on the fields of green.Rolling hills and meadows come alight as the landscape blooms,As the sun runs away, as the white innocence is lost to the pelting rain.The paths are lined with .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/684704/ And in the night you shine like goldA beam of light under the foldHeat radiates from your pores, your skinA huddled sum cut much too thin.The streets are full, the pantries bare.Fools, they pull with little care,Tug on the strings of the heartless,Decrees that bring about this decrepit mess. Th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/684698/ To live in an imprint,Make soft indentations in the sand.A fleeting memory, a dying rayThat bursts upon contact with the cold cement floor. To die within a moment,One that left before it began.A cruel mistake to cut fate's strings.Too bad you can't erase the ink.To live within a dream,Reality u.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/684694/ Head rests against the cool, white wall,Harsh images flicker from the subtle, dark shadowsThat bounce from beam to beam within the caverns that lie below.A turn of the knob, flick of the switch,And the black of night overcomes the sensesAs the eyes become blind.By choice.Clear, blue lights illuminat.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/676355/ America unfolds before my eyes,Line after dashing line that skipsAlong with the beating of my heart,the yearning of my soul.Confined by parameters of the blackened tarThat lies beneath my feetEver carrying us into the horizon, into theopen plain, the blue, brazen skies that offerProtection, guidance.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/666039/ The scene materializesPews filled to the brim, soft and subdued chatterRises high into the cathedral's ceilings,As the echoes of the joyous occasion bombard my eardrumsWith the constant reminder of what I once had,Of what I lost.He stands before me, beaming,And for a moment I pretend that he is smil.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/665078/ PagesCrisp to the touch, thin to the bonethe dark, deep, black stain that bleedsthrough the wilting leaves that crumple to the touchand turn to ash, a slow burn in a bright room,born again on a blank white canvas. A thin ribbon to keep his place,a defining line that lays the path.Reflecting on .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/663935/ Soft red drips on to the ground,slits of the wrist no longer hiddenbehind the velvet veil that lies at her feet.Pulse strong, heart beats, the drums that play within, a steady rhythm that maintains order despite the influence of the chaotic outside world.A potted rose bush sits o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/663516/ And the thoughts of the girl, you may ask.Quite the tragic heroine of her day.Rapunzel waiting for her white knight,The shining armor in which her reflectioncould dance,A kind of mirror that could provide herbeauty a glance.As the good just man walks up, ensured ofa kiss,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654269/ He staggers out into the numbing emptiness, The chill spring breeze cutting at every pore, Every figment of physical and mental selfThat strives to break free from the barred confines. A bright white light lingers in the distance,Ever yearning to make contact with .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654268/ I watched the interaction between ourmeager, young romantic and the masked man,Forcing my hand perhaps,Having placed a string upon their backs.Painted upon them golden slacksReminding each of what they lack. And yet, I turn aroundHead in groundNever to be f.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654266/ I look at theBoy. With bright blue eyes,Sitting in the summer shade, The crisp green blades cutting against his bareskin.Legs crossed, eyes hiddenBeneath the brim of a baseball cap.Silently staring at the sea of spaceThat stands between the two.She stands on a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654264/ Each squared panel giving off a light That is shared by no other, light that is unique, and yet similar merely in a sense of proximity.Some are dimmed, some bright,Some that are forever calling out into thedarknessFor someone, or rather somethingThat it just cannot expl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654263/ Time.A non-existent entity, a mere creation.Something that the human race impartedupon itself.Compartmentalized by our own hands. Centuries, decades, years, months, days,hours, minutes, seconds.All wrapped up in our pretty littlecalendars, date books and pocket pla.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654262/ HourglassA Collection of Poems  BradBaum             Green meets blue,Puzzled together with jagged edge,Enclosed within a four by four box,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654261/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/654260/ Quillstrikes paper, paper to quill.A soft giveand take, a dance among friends.Tumble,stumble, a fight between expression and mere existence.For theclear green words form without cause,A sermonfor empty ears.  Only the eyes lookto pay any attention. He retreads.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/652313/ He sits in wait, excitement being expelled from hisfingertips.Eyes wide, heart empty. The stare hard and hot onhis back,The mere pressure brought by a look that passesunnoticed.The glassy eyed teacher with robotic arms calls onnumber 4784,Who stares upward, a slight smile d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651833/ Green meetsblue,Puzzledtogether with jagged edge,Enclosedwithin a four by four box, or perhaps one much smaller.A staticimage, that both moves and lies still.The changeof the solstice brings a change of scenery,Yet none atall. Green, tored, to white, to gree.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651832/ He staggersout into the numbing emptiness, The chillspring breeze cutting at every pore, Everyfigment of physical and mental selfThatstrives to break free from the barred confines. A brightwhite light lingers in the distance,Everyearning to make contact w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651823/ The skystretches out, a never ending canvas,Vividlypainted with the last touch of vivacity That wouldbe provided on this turn.The hillsreach for the draining light, as the gilded figureReleasesits ever dying radiance into the abyss. Thestairway dims as the hand mo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651818/ Born. A being open to suggestion, open toform, open to influence. A constantintake of sound, visual and texture,Adapting astime progresses.Eyes followthe mother in an attempt to imitate, Beings thatall will ultimately become.A siblingbrought into the worl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651813/ A steadyrhythm within his head, which reverberates off of the hard wood,As ifmimicking, or perhaps foretelling, the soft cooThat callsfrom behind the barred gate. Banterhelplessly roles off his tongue, a speech both inviting and repressingThe boybehind bars, encapsulate.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651807/ Each squaredpanel giving off a light That isshared by no other, light that is unique, and yetsimilar merely in a sense of proximity.Some aredimmed, some bright,Some thatare forever calling out into the darknessForsomeone, or rather somethingThat itjust canno.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651804/ The softruffling of curtains shone in lightAs if thetepid rays did search for deep,Represseddarkness settled beneath with fright. The leavesstirred cold as if to try to keepSome aspectof the dream state within sight. Yet withthe dawn the birds sang, stripping sleep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/baum414/651798/