Author Archives

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.

• PINKLIGHTSABRE OUT OF OFFICE ALERT

  By Bill Pearse on December 22, 2019 • ( 5 )

  ***OUT OF OFFICE ALERT (OOF)***PINKLIGHTSABRE IS OUT OF THE OFFICE FOR THE NEXT 4 HOURS WITH PARTIALLY DELAYED RESPONSE TIME. IF THIS IS URGENT YOU CAN TEXT ME NO PROBLEM. IF YOU’RE NOT SURE IF IT’S URGENT THEN TEXT ME… Read More ›

• When everything matters

  By Bill Pearse on December 21, 2019 • ( 9 )

  It was like I’d just discovered the scale of life, that there was more of it than I could ever consume.

• Hello, goodbye

  By Bill Pearse on December 15, 2019 • ( 11 )

  In the dream I had just gotten a sleeve tattoo, like the armor on a teenaged mutant ninja turtle, panes from a tortoise shell, orange and red. And I was walking into the Starbucks corporate office for a new job,… Read More ›

• Song for late autumn Saturdays

  By Bill Pearse on December 14, 2019 • ( 26 )

  

  A voice is wailing from the radio, an opera, in a language I don’t understand. The gray today is like a palm pressing down on my head or worse, a pillow. One kid is in the shower with the radio… Read More ›

• Removed

  By Bill Pearse on December 13, 2019

  

  I can still remember the first Sony Walkman head phones and how it felt when the metal frame slipped out and rubbed against my temples. I didn’t care, it still felt like magic. The Police had come out with their… Read More ›

• Norwegian wood

  By Bill Pearse on December 12, 2019

  

  He turned bowls made out of reclaimed wood from the dead or fallen trees, the Norwegian maple from a cemetery reformed in the shape of a bowl Dawn picked out; we’d find a special place for it in our home…. Read More ›

• One remembrance

  By Bill Pearse on December 7, 2019 • ( 8 )

  

  We dropped down into Denver, the lights below, the wisps of cloud and snow, a funny time of year to visit. A time you wouldn’t unless you had to, the passing of my brother-in-law Chip, a celebration of life at… Read More ›

• Sunday night with the tree

  By Bill Pearse on December 4, 2019 • ( 20 )

  

  And I wondered what it thought of all this ornamentation and this fuss: this cruel ending.

• Their home

  By Bill Pearse on November 30, 2019 • ( 3 )

  This is where they’d started their family, when it was their home.

• Thanks giving

  By Bill Pearse on November 28, 2019 • ( 6 )

  

  And then for a time it is just the sound of the dog licking an empty bowl I’ve turned out all the lights so the coming dawn can fill every room and why do we say, “I’m filled with loss”… Read More ›