There’s a place in the world. There, in that place, there is a long green. It stretches from the base of a mountain. There are bleached white logs from before man here. They are petrified and solid. The green runs along a stream that glistens in the sun and rain. It pours the stream … More Visitors
“I’ll come down and see you sooner or later.” It might have been the fourth time in as many months that I had said it. “We’ll hang out.” “I miss you man.” “I miss you too.” Still I avoid the trip to his town for too long because it is long. The road is long … More The Boy Leaves
Slowly the sun rises against the mountains. The air bites sometimes before the sun rises to greet me. Then it settles its rays against me. We were old friends. The sun has been friends with all of us since life began on this planet billions of years ago. She is warmth and promises that she’ll … More A Morning in Firenze
“You know we have to listen to Christmas music on Saturday.” She says to me. I look at her from the couch. She’s beautiful in the glow of the kitchen lights. In our apartment that just isn’t quite big enough, the living room opens feet from the kitchen and it’s just enough for her and … More Christmas
This is an old poem. I like it very much. There’s a place in my memory. A place with green grass growing near rocks that jut up, While the ocean smashes against the shore And wind, sweet wind blows. Sun shines down on you and me So young and so free; Right then, that … More Faded
My Brother, Aaron, was married this weekend. Against their better judgement, him and his fiancee (now wife), decided to allow me to be their Master of Ceremony at their Reception. I hijacked the proceedings long enough to tell a short thing I wrote that morning. I hope for the very best for Aaron and Morgan. … More A Picture
Roma, Italia The early morning fog is heavy. It sticks to my sweaty skin. It is cold this morning, around ten degrees Celsius. Anna is sleeping in our small bed of an apartment only half a kilometre from the Vatican. I am walking to Piazza Giuseppe Garibaldi; it is a hill near the River Tiber. … More L’Ultimo
I wrote this a few years ago after watching a Nat Geo documentary on the death marches of the Nazis. In our current world wide political climate, I think it is pertinent. This story contains adult content. The dead remember our silence, the dead remember our apathy. Chaim drops his hat. And … More Our Own Damnation
I’m sick. It’s seven in the morning. My damned internal alarm clock won’t let me sleep this hangover off. It’s the only one I’ll have on this Island. I promise. I pace through the kitchen. I pace through the living room. I run to the toilet. I’m sick. It goes on like this for an … More No Ka Oi
The second video from our trip to Europe.
Storied By Josh 