Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
-
Post to 1970s me
I want the innocence of the 1970s again. Of rollerskating to disco music as a kid. Roller coasters, carnival food, the Jersey shore. Fireworks displays, sidewalk chalk, the ice cream man. I miss the feel of an old phone, a… Read More ›
-
Saturday morning entry
Closing my eyes to the after images of weed leaf patterns. The sharp edges of being fully in the now. Taken to mid-morning naps on the sofa in the den with the morning light and pets, a greenhouse warmth and… Read More ›
-
Not being high at the Habit burger restaurant
Back when I got high I sometimes wondered what it would be like to not get high when I was getting high. Like could the indescribable quality of this world be perceived otherwise? I never thought it could be and… Read More ›
-
Morning’s mantra, April
Springtime is one of the most beautiful times where we live. It’s a bath of sensory delights, especially in early morning. The distant woodpecker rattle, the sweet birdsong as it builds. Some crows and repetitive sounds all layered together. I… Read More ›
-
Your portion of life on a plate
When we got the warning about a violent storm coming we drove to the store for ice cream and organic cheese puffs and gas for the generator in case the power went out. I had gotten the blue light pre-cancer… Read More ›
-
My heart aches for these days
In the morning on the warmest day it’s still cool but you can feel the temperature start to change. I get to the park earlier than normal and the sky is the color of abalone shell, turquoise mixed with pink…. Read More ›
-
The you you are now
Sometimes when I’m walking the trail in the early morning dark I’ll sense motion and realize there’s a large deer crossing my path. Dawn said there’s been coyotes attacking people in Bellevue and I should carry a cudgel. Maybe a… Read More ›
-
The algorithm remembers
It’s an ungodly hour, 4 am. Even the heat hasn’t come on yet so it’s just me and the coffee maker, the odd mechanical sounds of the house idling. But I love this time in the dark to sit with… Read More ›
-
Season’s surplus
There is more life than I can use, so I squander it on fruitless things like video games or bad books or going to bed early. The funny way life inches forward mostly unseen. The spring blooms that would bring… Read More ›
-
Indefinite loop
2023 By the time spring started I hadn’t worked for four months. There’d been a short gig in December but prior to that, nothing since June. The agency I contract with slows down in the summer as their primary client… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 