The following is an insanely bizarre, free form poem written in August of 2017. Image copyright Rose and Bean There once was a very sad...

The problem with memories is that they’re not terribly reliable. Recounted tales of my youth mingle with dreams to obscure the nature of...

In September 2016, I penned an open letter to the River Hill administration criticizing the cancellation of HawkFest. Now that I have...

As promised, here is the anticipated weekly breakdown for ACC in 2019. Mondays Smaller scale content on this blog, such as poetry and...

Guess what? You are not EVERYWHERE. you probably shouldn’t leave the house. Every violent event all my days best I could all the while...

Yellow wheat waves softly in the calm midmorning wind The black shadows of the distant forest rear their two-dimensional heads The teal...

The river sings against the wind It sings a song against the wind It sings a song of valleys bridged And tumultuous torrents of other...

Tired eyes raise to the golden walls Their grey tears mirrored by the savior’s eyes The hard brown pews bring infinite comfort To the...

Let me be forgotten. Let my smile be stricken from memory; My laughter, erased from the air. Let time erode my sorrows, Let age rust over...

The darkness burns as it consumes you. From the inside out you are engulfed. These dreams are not yours; These desires are dangerous. Yet...

I know why you did what you did. I understand that you wanted to protect me, I love you, and I always will, but— –No, listen to me— You...

The tin-foil star was torn from the sky but burns a bit in sunlight. The beach chills me to the core, today. I’m wearing shorts. My...

Turtle, turtle, stay away No sir, no sir, we shall not play. I know you seem alright to me But still, a snapper you could very well be....

I know I swam through clouds, once Creation swirled around me in pearly wisps But the ground came calling And now I fight for air....

Like a bird with no wings, I I flounder through faded fields of ash I taste the faintest fury beneath my tongue I scrounge for substance...

Her hands are worn from walking the Earths and Moving stars in the dead of night. She wears rings for utility and because She likes their...

The following story is based on a game my sisters and I played as young children. There once was a sizable farm nestled in the hills of...

Tonight, the sky was so black that the few stars not stifled by the city’s crashing chaos burned brightly in the air. Colin hadn’t seen a...

Once upon a time, in the mystical land of Grammaria, there was a huge city filled with all sorts of words who lived in nine beautiful...

“I used to be afraid of dying. Now I’m afraid of not living.” -Neal Shusterman At the risk of repeating myself, I have a story to tell....