Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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This much madness is too much sorrow
Everyone wanted to know what Dawn was getting at the store and everyone had something to add to her list. I remember when Sunday nights turned into week nights because people would email and spin up work conversations about the… Read More ›
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The interstitials
Sitting outside as the storm gathers, on the outer edge of it: thinking that all things have their edges good or bad, where they begin.
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Breaking our kids from screens
The stream of consciousness is real, our perception is sharpened by stillness. You can drink from it and feel refreshed.
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Future perfect
It is six years ago now and we are making plans to move to Germany. The kids will be at a good age, we’ll all learn the language. I’ll quit my job and take time to plan our next move…. Read More ›
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The geometry of circumstance and absolute truths
They say the body is the outermost layer of the mind.
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Longing for home
Like passing through the atmosphere and trying to see outside the plane, but it’s hard to make out anything below or know when we’re going to land.
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On Division Street
We didn’t move to the beach for that, we moved there to postpone growing up for one more summer.
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Outside Atlantis
So sadly defined by work, cut out like a bowl.
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I’ve been waiting for a guide to come and take me by the hand
We are living this life where everyone we encounter is just a version of ourselves, the same as in dreams. How long have we been imagining shapes in the clouds? Or telling stories?
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Stand by me
I went down into the quarry and my calves burned coming out.
Bill Pearse 