Works of words by Bruce Duluoze
Worth time? Money? Worth heartbreak and sorrow? Worth loss?
What is worth you best intentions? Why is some other worth none at all?
Is it worth the effort? Worth any of this at all?
Continue reading “Sunday Morning Thoughts: 9.2.18”
People.
Their faces. Their moments. The way they sway, sound and smile. Laugh and cry and love. How they wander. And how they take root. And grow. And how part of a person can be stuck in time. Frozen. The amber of the moment, if you will. And what it is to see someone you haven’t seen in ages. To hear their heart pour into words. If only just almost.
Maybe it is the very question. That which pulls me back, week after week- with all the irregularities in between.
Each time one of these begins, the wonder and worry of why plumes about my neurons.
Continue reading “Sunday Morning Thoughts: 8.5.18”
Always a vastly easier task to let my mind spiral down than it making it march forward. Toxic thought, coursing about the unattended neurons. Any point in time. That which has, that which is happening and that which has not. And may never come to pass, but boy, I tell you thinking of the future in less than an optimal mind sure is something wicked.
Continue reading “Sunday Morning Thoughts: 7.29.17”
Early.
So early, we believed it still be Saturday night.
Such wonderful fools.
Something gets lost, eventually. Or thrown away. You can only keep so much in the collection of what falls out of your head. Even less room for keeping the words that fall from the heads of others.
Continue reading “Sunday Morning Thoughts: 7.15.18”
