Tuesday, April 13, 2010. Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide,. Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see,. Mama, life had just begun,.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010. Time consumes us with fear,. Age is unstoppable and strong,. A soft wrinkle lines your face,. A small trickle runs down from your old eyes,. Age does not care about my feelings,. And the flock of sheep in your dreams slow,. One by one they age and die,. Leaving gaps in your dreams, and in mine,. My dreams, which filled my nights,. And your days burst like rotting carcasses,. The blood will return to the dirt,. And when it does,. The constant raining, longing,. Monday, May 3, 2010.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010. Creative Writing - Leonard Cohen Modeled Poem. I heard of a man. Who says words so beautifully. That if he only speaks their name. Women give themselves to him. If I am dumb beside your body. While silence blossoms like tumors on our lips. It is because I hear a man climb stairs and clear his throat outside the door. I had met a boy. Who sings those words perfectly. That if he were to mention it. The girls would ask to sing along.