Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Friday, September 01, 2006

a friday thought

i watch the lightbulb swing;
strange how a naked bulb
can look so unprotected
and fragile
without its usual adornments
of shade or fitting.
forlorn and misplaced as if,
although it has always been there,
it doesn't really belong dangling from a wire
like the unwanted
offspring, still tied to the umbilical cord,
of a plain ceiling.

words by cocaine jesus


Russell Ragsdale said...

The images are beautiful but this feels stark and sad in the extreme, CJ.

Inkblot said...

what an absolutely beautiful post!

Cocaine Jesus said...


Cocaine Jesus said...


goatman said...

Puts me in mind of my college library: The stacks were close together and high enough to need a ladder to reach the top shelf. One lone bulb hung between two rows from high above on it's wire to barely light the titles. Beautiful scent from the old engineering texts, and beautiful aged pages.
The books are now in spacious places fit for this century and only the smell remains; if you smell close enough.
Thanks for the memories.

Cocaine Jesus said...

goatman>>>glad you got something positive out of my words.

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