November 2011
77 posts
October 2011
59 posts
I have no more arguments. I have no more spiteful words. I have no more childish...
If you ask God to speak He will. If you lay down your self and give him your...
– Christian Tenbrook
Written from 1911 to 1913, the Russian-born composer Igor Stravinsky’s...
– Norton Anthology of English Literature (20th Century and After)
The Kid Who Told On His Gun Running Neighbor to...
“He didn’t want to be running down the stairs, but he was. It’s a weird thing when you’re running down the stairs and you don’t want to be running down the stairs but you are. I mean not when you’re running down the stairs and you don’t want to be running down the stairs but you are, but when anyone is running down the stairs and anyone doesn’t want...
Anonymous asked: gosh, i love your eloquence. even in a simple response, your mind just works in such a beautiful way. it is a gift. thanks for sharing :)
spoonsaslegs asked: What is this obsession or ever so seeming that is, with guns?
I’m not sure I have a proper view of anything at all.
I forgot the world existed for seven hours today. I bought a new desk, dresser,...
The woods are calling.
– Christian Tenbrook
Eas in Crucem
A MAN stands center stage.
MAN: Should I continue to stand here or have you had your fill? Has your Jester pleased you oh, great master? I’ve had enough of your game. Here I abandon my pledge which was rooted in vapor alone. You are but a mist, a fallacy. I am to pledge my life to you? What have I, your servant, witheld?
(Silence)
Nothing. I laid them all before your feet. My dreams,...
Someone told me today they don’t write because they’re afraid of the...
– Christian Tenbrook
If I had to say anything on this, the close of my twenty first year, I believe...
– Christian Tenbrook
The Man Beneath the Crumb
No specific plot must be conveyed to thee for comprehension of this moment which follows. There has been a disaster, and this MAN hath lain beneath its weight. Hear now his words: MAN: Life doth not run itself out. There is no aching madness that shakes its weigh twixt within our ribs causing us to move. There is no destiny, there is no fate; there is but man and his hands. There is but man and...
We stand here before the chapel, black-huddled alone, and I do suspect...
– Christian Tenbrook
And suddenly I stumbled upon that season where the days are even regardless of...
– Christian Tenbrook
I have no acrobatic duty as a writer. In this journey of literary survey I have...
– Christian Tenbrook