JamesWoe's profile
AGE:
37
LOC: Lancaster, PA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 04
LOC: Lancaster, PA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: August 04
writer, musician, photographer, resident lush, sarcastic to the point of annoying, but finds it to be impossible to stop.
Currently seeking submissions for prospective anthology:
Gizzards And Gravy For the Guileless
Please visit gizzardsandgravy.blogspot.com for story samples, submission guidelines, ideas, great music, humor, pain, strength, clown shoes.
also seeking art/photography that centers on theme.
peace to you all.
JAMES WOE
if you like my writing or my pic or escaping from the mundane-
Check out my band:
www.myspace.com/oldssleeper
Items
Version 1
4 Reviews
15 Comments
wet, wet,wet every verb that springs from me glistening with rain,memory, songs unraveled. the streams of desire that gather in puddles along the road are waiting like mirrors begging the sky again and again their surface broken in circles over and over begging for one person with eyes closed softly lips ready only to say yes to everything.
Ratings & Rankings
Version 3
8 Reviews
7 Comments
my first pet was a wayward squirrel "SAMMY": he loved the yard in the late fall, scattered the leaves like an offering to an oracle of the woods. Dad roasted him gently, a pan of oil, rosemary, and almonds. garnished with a small slice of lemon, a dash of white pepper. I still remember the sweet taste of his flesh on Christmas Eve. My first dog ran away: disappeared into the night with not a howl nor a moan: desiring a world of lions like most men; the power of the nose driving him into the c...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 2
1 Review
0 Comments
my first pet was a wayward squirrel "SAMMY" he loved the yard in the late fall, scattered the leaves like an offering to an oracle of the woods. Dad roasted him gently, a pan of oil, rosemary, and almonds. garnish with a small slice of lemon, a dash of white pepper. I still remember the sweet taste of his flesh on CHristmas Eve. My first dog ran away: disappeared into the night with not a howl nor a moan: desiring a world of lions like most men: the power of the nose driving him into the cold...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
0 Reviews
0 Comments
my first pet was a wayward squirrel "SAMMY" he love the yard in the late fall, scattered the leaves like an offering to an oracle of the woods. Dad roasted him gently, a pan of oil, rosemary, and almonds. garnish with a small slice of lemon, a dash of white pepper. I still remember the sweet taste of his flesh on CHristmas Eve. My first dog ran away: disappeared into the night with not a howl nor a moan: desiring a world of lions like most men: the power of the nose driving him into the cold ...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
1 Review
0 Comments
While writing a pome Burnt my breakfast, coffee cold Three sweet disasters Empty bottle begs To be filled and drank again last cigarette lit walking in the night past a window of moonlight a glowing hard-on
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Reviews
i think youve done a nice job capturing a precise emotional process...nice sense of helplessness, and the last line is a perfect revelation... "surrender" ing to sadness, its a nice use of figurative language. I like it.
well...its not the most powerful thing i have ever read...cute? iguess..i prefer sayings that empower us.... it is original, for sure.
something makes me stumble over the last line. it seems very abrupt, and if thats your intention, well done- a sense of destruction? overall, it is cohesive in style and is effective in its brevity. peace.
This is really going to hinge on the music its played with...death metal? piano ballad? Lyrics are hard to evaluate because the expression with which theyre sung could really make or break it. IT has a tangible bitter tone...and its rhythm seems right.
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