http://slow.writerscafe.org/DannyM The original writings of author Danny Metcalfe en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776053341 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Balaam to His DonkeyOh, poordonkey, whose voice God opened,Speak again your complaint to my humbled ear:Tell me how mercy stood there with its sword drawn;Tell me how you turned before the light I could not see;Tell me how angels protect the humble from the demonic.For now my heart i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/3119915/ The winter that year was soft, soft like old wool, and it came without snow.I was rearranging the wings in the parlor when the bell rang�"a clear, shallowsound, like glass tapping against itself in a dream. I’d just finished wiringthe hawk’s eyelids closed.The man at the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2946749/ When I became a recluse, I chose the house across from the MythozoologicalConservatory because it was the only one available that didn’t mind a littlesmoke and occasional screaming. I was, and still am, an herbalist, though Ihaven’t sold a tincture in years. Most of my clients died.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2946729/ Why does thou politics promise such beautiful days Why does thou politics promise such beautiful days, And make words travel forth into minds that choke, To let thoughts overtake in ignorant ways, Hiding sun-filled fire and revealing only smoke? Tis not enough that your eyes deceive and peak, To s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2895624/ I wanna be your feather duster Tickling your sense of selfI wanna be your General Custer Stealing your ancient land’s wealthIf you like your tea steamingLet me be your teapot-creamingI’ll tell you the meaning I don’t wanna be yours I wanna be your hot bath On a cold winter day I wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2879538/ AffectionHer affection moves the earth, with music Divine -And holds Heaven’s ambition in flesh and stone; Knowing of the True design, She moves not in form, but in Beauty shown.  She, living beyond the living death, purifiers all poisoned breath, Of savage.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2856551/ An old man had remained silent for many a blue moon, Sitting by a river, in the glory of God. His body glowed with a silent fire, That warmed the atmosphere and made the villagers swoon. They begged ''Please! We beg you! Tell us of your Divine insight!''The old man stayed silent. Not even the whistl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2855906/ Since time is memory, I will forget to Understand And since time is full of philosophy, I will not philosophiseAnd since I become aware of time, because of movement, I will not move. Since something is followed by something, I will be Nothing.And since Nothing is not memory, I will be .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2855741/ In the shop window, sweets like jewels in jars, sparkle in the eye of the child, outside looking in. The winter air tickles his ears, turning them as red as his scarf! And the snow on the ground makes its way into the holes in his shoes.He shivers like a musical note, out of tune with .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2855621/ God, crown me with Eternity, With its pure clarity and pure Space, Which doesn't blind but awakes. Crown me with Eternity, So I will not speak with my tongue but with Consciousness.And rid me of the disease of tomorrow, Of the unknowing of today. Do not give me the confused tongues of philosophy, Of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2855389/ Around the corner from the Queen Victoria, Where the street, touched by spring rain, split thelight of day, I walked beneath the cries coming from thebalconies �" loud and demanding.  Below, the crowd of youthful passion: strikersmoving in fresh shadows.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2847708/  Among the cafés and bars, rain, like a ballet, pours in a great movement of kisses. Across the sky, a rainbows prayer dances from cloud to cloud, exuding pleasant perfumes of Spiritual flare. The scented wind animates the air like a singing rose, and, smelling the vision of its .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2846475/ Zero White, invisible and Pure. O Love, Silence of Silences! 1 Black, beginning and end of all things. O mind, echo of Eternity. 2 Red, separate and divided, drunk on passionate yearning. 3 Green, leader towards great effects! O growth and fresh Birth! Father-Mother-Son. 4 Black, O great miracle! Fi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2837843/ You lose Love when you try to hide it, Like rain lost in the origin of Night, stammering to release…breaking into shadows of ripening fruit. You go to take a bite and are shocked to find It is not the real thing. I will not hide my Love,My Love will rain down, covering the e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2834556/ I.One evening whenthe flowery air stirred,And the rays of the moon tickled the earth,Arthur Lemuel Pangur, having soaked himselfin the drooling of his heart, uttered a prayer to the spirits…‘’ O I sing a hymn of faith, like a kiss from a gun…O my sad hea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2834265/ In the blue of a winter afternoon, cold and riddled with snarling anxiety, I drank German beer in a French bar, hanging from the ropes of my thoughtsacross from Lake Annecy. My lips trembled like the flapping wings of a bee, As my sips swelled in intensity. I was left with nothing but the patience t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2834255/ I have been signed by a Literary Agency for my first Novel. So, I treated myself to a trip to Paris and wrote this while I was there. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2828951/ From the window, Isee the blue wash of the sky and the fingers of the wind stir thewooded Kingdom. The crows among the silk of green echo theirshadows from sound to sound. Music of oldseasons. The cobwebs of timeare catching the flies of melancholy And in themovements.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2826515/ In the warm greenevening light, we walk hand in hand, with our Heartssmitten with Love; along a stony narrow path.The pink sky tintsour eyes and pale green hedges rustle with whispering birds.The green of earthechoes in the wind; its wild powerringing in our ears, lifting s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2826270/      I ran withwild Angels, who glowed from the very core of Existence with VirginJoy. They rose from the mountains of the Moon like largewhite doves! I embraced the Dawns of their lifted veils andascended into the sweet aroma of Astral air. The structures of Life were sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2826052/ My first job was working at a time-travel vacationagency. Because I worked there, I got a great discount on one of the most expensivetime destinations: The Last Supper of Jesus Christ. I met Jesus Christ and he blessed me with quantum-field transcendencemanipulation. From then on, I bega.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2822279/ OUTSIDE A BAR, A STREET LIGHTFLICKERED. The bar was loud and the people were quiet. So quiet you couldhear the secrets that hung from their lips that they swallowed with everysip of alcohol yet were unable to digest. Theydid not become drunk on.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2820708/ My eyes are shapedlike the sea. I have no idea the reason for this. I hypnotize aquatic creatureswith my sight. I must avert my eyes or they try to possess me. I do not lookpeople in the eyes, for I know it is dangerous. My tears are like waterfalls soI try to keep my emotions in check. I am.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2816419/ In the theatre of Mirrors, one death leads toanother and each mirror cracks like a ripple of a River. Being bashful I did not look at my reflections, And did not hope to know them for out of the cracksI witnessed butterflies and moths that cast my shadows,Rejoice in Death. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2815541/  We arrived on the ferry upon watersof thirst. Waiting in line we got talking to a German Woman, who told us of Oracles and herchatter crept among the ears of the water’s myths. We carried our bags through thecracks of people, the vestige of their hearts roaming from.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2804688/ The other pupilsdid what they were told. When the morningregister was called, I was silent. My silence was enough. My name is silent,like the true Name of God. The teachers never understood. When the morning Bus arrived; I waselsewhere. I walked the streets like a catgiving my .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2802520/ I stole a heart once. I gave it back but I know I’d do it again. Anyway, I get no peace from stealing hearts and I’m in need of some peace. So hearts are off the menu. I pride myself on my stealing abilities. My first theft was sweets from a sweet shop. I got caught and a slap on the bum.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2802124/ My heart rang with rumours of fountain and ice, while the girls of summer, with ribbons around their wrists; butterflies in their throats, held roses in their hands and with A desire to cry forged an invasion of absence. Upon the white hills where a mass of kisses Filled the air; grooms of distant b.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2801451/ I wiped the astral dust from the walls and cleared my throat to applause. The skeletons dance, eyeless, hung up on their stolen hearts, like a lost string on a violin. Humming in chorus, they spin their sentiments between their legs. Outside the rain is stripped bare by the turn of death...The scent.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2801450/ The theory is: if you put enoughmonkeys on a typewriteryou might get the works of Shakespearebut all you really get is 21st century poetry. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2798701/ Happy the machine unknownto itself, feeling destiny like smoke from aflame and as times passes so do theirlives, knowing nothing but the idea of the world:Ideas are so common, like philosophers whose confusion israised to wisdom by the machines who rejoice inhabit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2798272/ The Bear in the dead of summer sings to serenade the fish, the strength of his mouth as vulnerable as the flute---his prey cannot resist the waltz of his lungs. Savouring the taste he sits under the green of a tree, scratching His back upon its wood ladened body and rests a while among the tall .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2798107/ Dead girl hiding behind buried mirrors which reflect handkerchief bouquets. I shine brightly in my tomb, I am foolish enough to wave the sapphire banners of eternity over her head. Her winter deliciousness in sight of magic shapes, I suffer in her perfect form. Our bodies are deceased in hours o.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2791927/ There is nothing so deceptive as the language of politicians---The meaning behind such language is not truth; but tactical propaganda aimed at the psychological playground of the public mind. Hannah Ardent suggests ‘’ The totalitarian mass leaders based their propaganda on the correct .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2790170/ The universal history is the infinite expression of unique law before the silence of God and so we come to dream in a foreign language, the origin of which is the native land of our hearts. The tongues of angels and demons are the shadows of our language, and the mansions of the earth are where we h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2788000/ In an opulent spring I swam among fields of baptism, my breathing was deep andrhythmic in accordance with higher law; Icomposed a music of liberty and wept at the spectacle! It was the shattering ofmy senses, the melodious roar of love! I climbed the pillar of faith and foundth.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2786998/  Oh! The holy temple, the numen of myheart creating fires of new flesh! I sawthe first moon of female sexuality in a red violet sky.I dared to be silent and withstood the elemental ghostsand proverbs of my being. The old sadness of theunremembered earth, which .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2786906/ The fundamental nature of politics is guided by egocentric-consciousness, that being that which identifies as that which they are not i.e. the body, their thoughts, the material world etc.… more than anything else it is the great divider, that is, it appeals to the parts of human nature that .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2783628/ On The State of Modern Art. William S Burroughs stated ‘’ it is to be remembered that all art is magical in origin - music,sculpture, writing, painting - and by magical I mean intended toproduce very definite results. Paintings were originally formulaeto make what is painted happen... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2783103/  The writer is first and foremost many things, they are:artist, psychologist, philosopher, sociologist, inventor, comedian…etc...but most ofall they are magicians. That is to say, they are manipulating reality withtheir words upon the page. They are spells creating new worl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2782152/ My grandfather toldme this story.Once in his youth,he was camping in the Yorkshire moors. He often stayed there for 10 days ormore and took in the high air. He walked the waving hills for hours in theafternoon, on occasion stopping to sketch the scenery. He was not a brilliantartist bu.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2777923/ Part 1:The sermon begins. As promised the pale nostalgiaHas wet the streets and shy cobwebs move along the velvet coffinsThat holds within them the dead bodies on the fringe of music.Swallowed up by the sun and torn by the iron air and with a streak of hopeThe bronze heart softens its grip.Made of s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2776523/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2774744/ The wedding ceremony was a sturdy spectacle with vows unspoken. At one point a fly flew into the mouth of the groom and was left in the valley of his stomach. This shocked one wedding guest into consulting a doctor. There was no cure was the verdict. The guest wore the shock on her face for the re.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2771359/ The Divine Scientist---the shamanic doctor, thesign of wealth to come!Alpha et Omega. My eyes like a harp in thelandscape of unheard music -the voiceless dreams I once knew only in myth arenow known in the mid-heaven of my sky…the sun-lit lamps like precious doves,sparkle .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2769306/ I have not forgotten the time before us, when my heart ached And I heard the wings of your spirit flapping in my ears. Your precious shadow, like a mirror…There is no escaping the reflection of fate. From a golden river and pillars of Rhubarb we sat on a benchto an audience of angels, who lis.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2768763/ I.The angels visit leaving behind nofootprints: Their paths cannot be followed. The path to liberation is the path ofthyself. They who utter their unique voice set their sails to the silent wind.  II. O my sad heart, the geometry of mydreams, like .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2767108/ Ivan Munch’s hands were empty as he entered the church. He never went to church empty handed but on this particular day his fortune had left him. The embarrassment had left his face looking like a sleeping toad. After a time, he began eating flies, his eyes throbbing in excitement. There was n.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2766665/ I have a face cut from the hatching of thought, my pungent senses dance between the melodies of my eyes, like star-crossed lovers meeting to witness the grand opera of reality and they watch like wildflowers as the skeletons of old wine sing from the balcony of heaven. The mother of us all: The sile.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2766506/ (A doctor and first time mother are in the doctor’s office.) DOCTOR: I have some news for you about your new born baby. MOTHER: Oh, my. What is it Doctor? DOCTOR: Your baby was born with only half a brain. MOTHER: Oh, my goodness! DOCTOR: It’s not all bad. It’s more than the majori.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/DannyM/2766046/