poem – Frostwritten

Thirty

the age of thirty, means not the end of youth, but instead, a new start (here’s to getting back on track in my thirtieth year)

Welcoming November with a little poem…. So an atheist a future pastor an aspiring writer and a redhead are all sitting at a table playing Apples to Apples. The category was ‘American.’ The future pastor would decide. The atheist played ‘Freedom.’ The aspiring writer played, ‘The Electric Chair.’ The redhead played ‘Lucille Ball.’ All wereContinue reading “Most American”

Blue Screen

Thought I’d share a poem I wrote several years ago for an English assignment when my old desktop computer (which I still have and still works) was constantly blue screening, much to my frustration. Blue Screen Go away, blue screen. With your white words that no one with average intelligence understands. I’m trying toContinue reading “Blue Screen”