skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
poetry and prose by stephen chute
Wednesday, March 30, 2022
only sleep will make it right
there is a saintly
feel
when tired, when surrendered
to the soft
bed,
unable to lift
another finger towards
work.
there is the yellow
glow
of light.
the book left unattended,
the news
of the day
now unimportant.
only sleep,
will
make it right.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Followers
Blog Archive
►
2024
(2513)
►
November
(57)
►
October
(229)
►
September
(231)
►
August
(235)
►
July
(224)
►
June
(233)
►
May
(243)
►
April
(218)
►
March
(248)
►
February
(258)
►
January
(337)
►
2023
(3264)
►
December
(285)
►
November
(259)
►
October
(265)
►
September
(299)
►
August
(269)
►
July
(334)
►
June
(297)
►
May
(283)
►
April
(223)
►
March
(295)
►
February
(238)
►
January
(217)
▼
2022
(2882)
►
December
(319)
►
November
(241)
►
October
(215)
►
September
(167)
►
August
(199)
►
July
(209)
►
June
(249)
►
May
(216)
►
April
(269)
▼
March
(257)
another diamond ring?
the vase on the mantle
be careful
on the same page
balloon animals
expect it
the dying vine
all the way to Baltimore for this
rewriting the will
oh well
only sleep will make it right
improvement
a three mai tai night
hypnosis
in the bye and bye
the family bomb shelter
it's not over yet
violence
hollywood
whose room is this?
the cold secret
the whole dish
five days in mexico
everything left behind
business contracts for emotions
her new dance pole
friends like this
the dodge dart
adam and eve supplements
by december
the other side
check or cash
slightly off the grid
i hate april first
dinner at five, be on time
what's in a name
the cashier at garfinkle's
under our skin
another lost someone
shake rattle and roll
the dense fog
the Kingsize bed
let's go to the zoo
it's a sunrise for God's sake
less than nine lives
my kind of girl
the underdogs
the afternoon nap
the sharp knife
a blonde standing on her head
who are these men in the truck?
nothing left to give
the girl loves horses
almost forgiveness
organizational skills
time for cake
i smell what you're cooking
salisbury steak
wackadoodle
give me a reason
despite itself
from the cool shadow
postcard from Barcelona
the cyclones
the warmth of lap
have fun and run
doctor week
no more saints
so we all go
the new family car
what's for breakfast?
history repeats itself again
it's the end of the world
the stupid woke movement
my next favorite planet
run towards the light
by the time i get to Sacramento
the second hand
the great divide
what's next
fresh eggs
out of words
the slender thread
that's all you got?
the growl of young men
fix bayonets
the new addiction
finding the perfect man
walking versus hiking
why work anymore?
one sweet, one sour
his small town
riders on the storm
there are no bombs falling
who's there?
sunlight then and now
my back pages
what really matters
there is no plot to this
will we be here tomorrow?
►
February
(252)
►
January
(289)
►
2021
(3094)
►
December
(244)
►
November
(264)
►
October
(248)
►
September
(219)
►
August
(219)
►
July
(221)
►
June
(245)
►
May
(259)
►
April
(302)
►
March
(284)
►
February
(242)
►
January
(347)
►
2020
(2595)
►
December
(361)
►
November
(338)
►
October
(242)
►
September
(200)
►
August
(204)
►
July
(191)
►
June
(132)
►
May
(143)
►
April
(170)
►
March
(186)
►
February
(221)
►
January
(207)
►
2019
(2074)
►
December
(274)
►
November
(233)
►
October
(232)
►
September
(193)
►
August
(190)
►
July
(233)
►
June
(190)
►
May
(162)
►
April
(105)
►
March
(120)
►
February
(77)
►
January
(65)
►
2018
(1224)
►
December
(101)
►
November
(92)
►
October
(52)
►
September
(95)
►
August
(87)
►
July
(82)
►
June
(120)
►
May
(140)
►
April
(84)
►
March
(112)
►
February
(116)
►
January
(143)
►
2017
(1775)
►
December
(171)
►
November
(169)
►
October
(151)
►
September
(156)
►
August
(180)
►
July
(201)
►
June
(122)
►
May
(104)
►
April
(121)
►
March
(123)
►
February
(124)
►
January
(153)
►
2016
(2658)
►
December
(131)
►
November
(160)
►
October
(184)
►
September
(203)
►
August
(256)
►
July
(236)
►
June
(262)
►
May
(262)
►
April
(272)
►
March
(321)
►
February
(174)
►
January
(197)
►
2015
(1839)
►
December
(153)
►
November
(144)
►
October
(127)
►
September
(113)
►
August
(137)
►
July
(134)
►
June
(160)
►
May
(161)
►
April
(151)
►
March
(185)
►
February
(176)
►
January
(198)
►
2014
(2208)
►
December
(210)
►
November
(198)
►
October
(195)
►
September
(274)
►
August
(256)
►
July
(178)
►
June
(173)
►
May
(146)
►
April
(160)
►
March
(147)
►
February
(134)
►
January
(137)
►
2013
(1558)
►
December
(99)
►
November
(106)
►
October
(122)
►
September
(103)
►
August
(98)
►
July
(122)
►
June
(156)
►
May
(114)
►
April
(139)
►
March
(131)
►
February
(161)
►
January
(207)
►
2012
(1846)
►
December
(195)
►
November
(196)
►
October
(221)
►
September
(139)
►
August
(165)
►
July
(158)
►
June
(159)
►
May
(154)
►
April
(122)
►
March
(130)
►
February
(114)
►
January
(93)
►
2011
(1420)
►
December
(71)
►
November
(79)
►
October
(101)
►
September
(112)
►
August
(96)
►
July
(109)
►
June
(114)
►
May
(139)
►
April
(135)
►
March
(143)
►
February
(134)
►
January
(187)
►
2010
(1401)
►
December
(171)
►
November
(153)
►
October
(92)
►
September
(113)
►
August
(137)
►
July
(177)
►
June
(157)
►
May
(126)
►
April
(69)
►
March
(83)
►
February
(67)
►
January
(56)
►
2009
(230)
►
December
(46)
►
November
(42)
►
October
(46)
►
September
(60)
►
August
(36)
About Me
Stephen Chute
west springfield, virginia, United States
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
View my complete profile
No comments:
Post a Comment