http://slow.writerscafe.org/Daniel%20Helle The original writings of author Lucas Grasha en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1775990538 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 NucleusThere is muck.Nothing that obstructs or turns opaque,but fawns density,queen of adversity.All the vines and Spanish moss and mangrove grow,and her fingers bind my floorboards,entangle my whisper-warmed room.I also fawn--she winces,and halts.Agreeance,a bed of mangrove,and a blanket of moss ma.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/995717/ Note: this poem is intended as a satire to display the fallacious sentiments of conspiracy theorists (and their forms of generalized psychosis). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/995715/ SuperbNone but toads can see me.My shoes dirty,and I dare not clean them in the river.They say sound is caused by friction,but not here.Not where a yellow tree pines out from a canopy of green.It dares.Little pools dare to remain stagnant,as the boulders that dot the flow dare to supplant assistance.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/993647/ House This old house has bones I don’t know of,creaks in the floors I can’t recall,and a few locks with missing keys. Some of the doors rest upon rusty fragility,swinging in abandon;concealing and illuminating. The empty chambers but.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/990233/ Noise of the Universe The Noise…The Noise of the Universe�"Can you hear it? It isn’t a matter of whether or not you do hear it�"With the ability comes the capacity to listen;But also lent is the tendency never to feign he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/960688/ Crimson I hear Church Bells ringing…Could they be ringing, coaxing along my trot, for me?Could I be God? No, no, I don’t believe in God;Those Bells can’t ring for me…I can’t even see the Steeple. I can’t see.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/956255/ Elizabeth’s Gourd In the Victorian age, a knight gives a token tohis bride-to-be before he must depart for a battle far away;the knight speaks first:“Take this…it is a part of me.”The woman unwraps the token from the cloth and shefurrows her .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/955199/ God’s Journal of Creation Day one: I created light today;and by created I mean I put a new light bulb in the basement above thecat’s water dish. I did accidentallycreate Albert Einstein ten millennia earlyand had to kill him.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/928426/ Schrödinger’sDiary December 16, 1935:Cat walked by the lab bench.He then disappeared into another quantum realm.Did not come back for five hours, but when he did,he brought back trout that sang very well. December 17, 1935:Cat died on lab be.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/901272/ Paradox. “This statement is false,” the first man said.“No, it’s not,” the second man said.“Yes, it is.”“But that would mean it’s true.”“Exactly--but it’s also false.”“But all stateme.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/891736/ I Am Martin: Part Two Martin walked into the confessional of the Catholic church.This place was the congregation he’d been cast out of.He rememberedthe night he walked out of the church with his few truepossessions in hand,how he meandered his way to a pay phone .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/886941/ I Am Martin: Part OneA man of five feet tall walked into his brother’s bedroom;his brother was slouching in his hand-carved wooden and cloth chair from Francethat their mother gave to him as a twenty-fourth birthday present.The brother in the chair was lazily reading a copy of The Brothers Kar.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/878229/ Scene from a Vienna Pub High-heeled boots are terrifying.That man in the corner boothhas the names of his cats sewn onto his leather biker jacket.His giant beard reminds him ofhis cat Yolanda. That woman is four months pregnantand does not seem to know thephrase, &.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/873212/ In The Navy Optimism,Pessimism,and Realismargue over whether the glass is half full or half empty. “I say it’s half full,” said Optimism.“I say it’s half empty,” said Pessimism in his snarkyBritish accent.“Well.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/845911/ The Gay AngelI have a dream;one which I think to be a long-extended metaphor.A dream in which I am walking into the darkness of cavernous woods,like a German folklore character wandering into theSchwarzwald.In the woods,I find an old temple,the old structure’s outside marked only by a circle o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/845408/ Storm She calms the waters on the edgeof my horizon,makes the beach swept clean fromits pollutants.Her lightning strikes fire for mewhen I shiver in the Black streakof Red nights;Her hurricane expels the Red fromthe beach,giving way to Her beautiful, Blueoc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/845399/ I Am Dinner. Across the breach was spread seaweed;Gifts from the Sea thrown onto the crumbled rocks.Silently--rather, near silently--the coast water opened in a small circle,the crown of the Lobsterman King piercing the foam of thesea.He rose up from the waters.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/844761/ C. “Tonight was good,” she said as she ran a finger through herhair.“Yeah,” he replied. “I was scared about performing some ofthe songs,but I thought the entire chorus sounded really good.”The two highschool students walked down the se.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/840398/ Jack, Hobbes, Martin and I. Well, I managed to wake up with a greatsense of nihilism with a side ofRoman Imperialism (not thatthe two are having an affair). Then aStoic came by and we played a preemp-tive game of chess, since the winner had beendestined to win an.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/831192/ Sestina: Corn I see nothing but corn.I know nothing but corn.I eat nothing but corn.I speak nothing but corn.I hear nothing but corn.I do nothing but harvest corn. I do nothing but have sex in fields of corn.I sleep on a bed of corn.I walk in not.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/820525/ In this b*****d of a sunset, where you set looseto find a road away from his guilty noose.The sun caught you in a seeming act of betrayal,“Nay,” the Moon said. “My brother has your tail.For this is not vengeance, only triumph of the will.You are destined to dog-.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/771839/            “Hello, little miss.”            The man had an Irish accent, onethat would have otherwise started to seduce Inna under different circumstances.She only looked at the Irish man with he.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/765389/ “Do you hear thechoirs yet?”            Joseph said this coldly, since theworld was coming to an end. The presidents and prime ministers and governmentshad long ago called the stage play of the world to a close. It was only.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/759407/         The fist hithim in his neck.            It was a terrible blow, one thatsent him careening into the wall of lockers behind him. Jared Grey had thrownthe punch into Markus, unprovoked. Although Jared would&r.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/756628/ The silence of his night walk seemed to lure him in some mystical way, as if the night were a lady and were pursuing him, beckoning him in with the curling of her fingers pointed to him, the scent of her perfume wafting itself onto the wind and dragging him in with invisible clutches. He lost himsel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/754674/ “What am I worth to you, Mitzi?”Emmet said with the worst tone in his voice, that of pain, misery, hate andanger mixed into a vocalized cocktail. I stood there with the weight of mybody’s spiteful air against him, wanting to say something that just wouldn’tspill out o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/751110/ “Our goddess havebirth to your god.”I heard that phrase in a song and I thought that it wasworthy of my time to properly ponder it. The goddess represents the Earth, thesacred dirt that we stand upon. But there is a far deeper meaning to the idea;something that is much more e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/741056/ I have lost the ability to care at the moment. Even if theworld were ending right this second, I would still keep writing. I would beleft alone to my own demise and willingly accept this end. If so, this would bethe way it should be, with the fires of the end to consume this compositeworld; .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/741055/ All that I want from you, Engel, are the few words that Iwanted to say. I just wanted to say them and have that one bit of solace that Ihave been searching for. Please, don’t deny me of that…          I know that Iask much more of y.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/739888/        “Damn land won’t move things fastenough…”            Daniel said to himself. He sat aloneon the train platform, letting his legs dangle over the edge that they weren’tsupposed .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/738401/ This little bit of jazz piano…I’m liking it. It is serenitymixed in with the beat of a drum. Nearly effortless beauty is what I would callit. I listen to it as I sit in this school’s band room…and when the piano anddrums stop, I hear the beauty of a solo violin; then,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/738170/ Find my past and the guns that went withit,only if your passage is ever permitted.If not, then you’ll find notes scatteredthat will reveal my soul’s softpitter-patter.Say it once, my names sake twice,my story for your intrigue, it willsurely suffice.For thes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/738167/ I cannot describe how I long forthis season to begin, with its careless days, its loose-fitting clothes, andits beautiful days…this year’s summer is almost here. The days of not caringabout anything that doesn’t deserve attention…how I love for these days tocome. Ho.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/737099/ I cannot bare to listen to my voice…the voice that had beenrecorded on graduated tin paper and a diamond-tipped needle, all while beingshot out through a sophisticated phonograph. The sound of it may sound likebeauty to others, but it is a horrid scream to me. Just the thought of it mak.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/735011/ Just please don’t tell me that this would be our departure…          We havebarely found our way to the docks, and it already feels as if we are drifting.Please, do not tell me that this feeling is real. Please, never tell me such a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/733924/ Is there much more that I can stand? This stress is startingto take its toll, and it is a tribute I have difficulty paying. Just in myprevious night, I had been acting compulsively; in a fashion that led to aburning sensation in the back of my throat. Those tears burn at the pit of my larynx,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/733054/ You'rethe shoreline when I drown, where I swim to inthe ocean's cold.The rain clouds tomy burning house, the one to run in todrag me out.My stable ground onmuddied earth,my water to drinkwhen kicked to eat dirt.My tiny bit ofsunshine in the darkest hole, my.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/732153/ I know so well your confusion…and that is what breaks myheart. It hurts not the most to see that you love another, but say that I amstill your Guardian and not love me so. This all is the most painful thing forme…it’s something that I’ve never experienced. I just wish.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/731765/ Thenight time starts to retract again,thesunlight chases away what we had.Itfalls away like a flower that’s dead,andthe light refused our dance. Butthe rain drops feel,andas far as we could tell,thenights that held us have seemed to give up&hellip.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/731509/ Thelittle faith in me you have left,somethingso wretched, something to detest.Suchhorrors I cannot express,butfrom me, what else do you expect?AmI special? And only to you?Andtrust in me, you try to renew?Itis broken easily, so fragile,nothingworth saving,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/730432/ Graceful elegance is somehow starting to possess me. I amuncertain exactly how it is happening, but I know that it is. There is thisfeeling, this peace that is overcoming me. It is a sense of unity with who I love,even though she will not openly love the same way that I do. She is delicate in.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/730422/ I hear the violinist in the background as we finally findour way to our secret hideaway…the place we have been looking for. That littlegazebo in the middle of peaceful undergrowth with a pond stretching around uslike fingers holding the weight of the world…that peace is something.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/730417/ Let this show called life reach its calm soliloquy. I havehad enough of these little battles within the plot line; they are starting towear down the fabric that holds my mind together. I am just far too unstable totake some of these trials and too old to take far jumps. It is a difficultsitu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/729761/             “Didyou hear her yet?”            Hesaid that phrase with an effortlessly cold hush. His words seemed to roll offof his tongue with a certain slithering motion. They did not re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/729344/ It endlessly baffles my mind about how she says that I am herguardian, and she calls me as such, but she can still love another. When shecan say that I am present for her more than her lover, how is it that she cansustain that? How can she deal with what I would describe as a pristine case of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/728654/ I watched asthe blood dripped down from his neck.            I couldn’t stop watching either.When I came to his house after his request, this is the welcome I received.         &nbsp.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/727857/    “It’s almosttime…”            I said the words with a cold heart,one that could’ve been shattered during any other time, but was seeminglyinvincible. It was as if this hope was keeping a thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/726005/ In the deepest parts of the night, I feel as though I canstill smell your perfume wafting past me. It is a delusion, at least my brainthinks it is, but it is far from that. I feel as though you are not that farfrom me, even when distance compromises our togetherness. It is an electricfeel, o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/725329/ The silenceseemed to make her smile.            As stars reflected onto her face, hegently caressed the side of her cheek, lifting away her mane of hair to revealher pale skin. Her skin seemed to radiate a blue tint; but only in thes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/724148/ Her voice still resonates deep in my head. She is these in asense that still, to this day, I can’t forget. The little bits and pieces of methat she left behind from when she was here cannot be placed back togetheragain…they hall have changed too much. From my perspective, when a p.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Daniel-Helle/723309/