The Night Lies

Yes, my friend, the night will tell you a thousand lies. (how many times must I tell you this!) It lies in wait, because that is what it does best. And, you will hear a thousand more lies, if you don't change your evil ways continuing in that rut of yours that no matter what … Continue reading The Night Lies

Hangin on Overdrive

What is fair and what is good stands between yon, alone. there is ongoing misunderstanding crossing o'er  hill and dale hangin' on overdrive. namely, it's a tall notion each deserves; as toiling hands plaster bare walls forming hardening remnants of past mistaken identities. unworthy as it may sound, tolling my bell while my other ear was charmed, … Continue reading Hangin on Overdrive

Coffee, Tea and Plain Old Ki

For God's sake man! Get out of your own way. You are in the middle of pinching off that data stream of me and your Ki. There is that information you didn't think was there, as it is slippery and illusive in its own wallowing nature. The trick is... Don't believe in anything you see. Be skeptical … Continue reading Coffee, Tea and Plain Old Ki

The Madness of Orchard

the madness of orchard, poem, poetry, prose, steven humphreys

This Maddening denial is by no rule a narrow door to a long life; in that it had been shortened if not by air, but certainly not by any forlorn pleasantry within the bounds of madness of orchard. Although, it's through this that I see that empty field of thorns between the mundane madness of me and my standing in stillness … Continue reading The Madness of Orchard

Dream a Little Dream

Is this possible, dreaming a dream within a dream? (If not, dream a little dream of a cup of coffee at Red's! Hey, it's time to live a little! Whatever! just don't dream of me. I'm not the right guru. I wouldn't go to Starbuck's if it was the last coffee house on earth! Why? Because, everyone walks a … Continue reading Dream a Little Dream

Master of Monument

Master of monument uncommon architects of  fate tearing down these walls of time in pieces of broken rhyme. The useless subjective monsters our souls so sublimely return become our yesterdays that which we've earned  belonging to us it colors them once again between the small and the great who with all their weary deeds leave wide  ascending gaps unseen. … Continue reading Master of Monument

Driving Nowhere on the Head of a Pin

driving nowhere on the head of a pin, steven humphreys, prose, poem, poetry

Driving nowhere propped up on the head of a pin; jackrabbit road aimlessly sin pink elephant polka dot bikini dancing on a rim plays fine guitar thumbing rides in a bus filled with laughing clowns wearing rabbit ears looking down out those passing windows catching freight trains ground rumblin' tracks movin' ground shakin' trainwreck comin' like an … Continue reading Driving Nowhere on the Head of a Pin