Fickle, a new poem.

There’s something about a glass of wine (or a bottle) along with a sweaty workout that gets the blood flowing. And blood flowing leads to writing, writing, writing. ———————— You were the lie I told myself, The truth I made myself believe. My careless mind let down its guard To a heart that would deceive.…

Working on some new poetry…

As I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve been in a very poetic mood lately. Writing a new poem every few days. I’ve since submitted several pieces to literary magazines, contests, and publishers in the hopes that I can make some headway on my goal of 5-in-28. [See: Who, me? for details.] Since I can’t…