William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose.
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People’s Poet
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Lost in the clouds
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THIS WAS UNCALLED FOR
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Tag Archives: Memoir
October 7, 2018 (Sunday) In the den with the fruit flies on the couch I lay listening to the tic of the clock, the dog shifting, the sound of a jet outside, and nothing else worth noting. We are each … Continue reading
Posted in Memoir, prose, writing
Tagged aging, journal writing, journaling, Memoir, pacific northwest, short form
14 Comments
More animal
Pouring boiling water down the sink drain to kill the fruit flies. The look of them in the dark as it spills through, this everyday violence. Remembering what my arm looked like when I cut it as a 5-year-old, running … Continue reading
Posted in musings, writing
Tagged 1984, conditioning, Halloween, horror, Kavanaugh, Memoir, Rosemary's Baby, stream-of-consciousness, violence, Walt Walker, waltbox, William Pearse writer
21 Comments
‘Cuts you up’
Lily (who now goes by Lee) and I drove to the Teanaway river valley on the east side of the Cascades, stopping at a Safeway in the small town of Cle Elum for junk food. I didn’t bring the guts … Continue reading
Posted in identity, Memoir, parenting
Tagged camping, existentialism, family, identity, Memoir, mid-life crisis, nostalgia, pacific northwest, sentiment, William Pearse writer
24 Comments
Song to the dark lands
When I look through the trees at the park near our house they are all pretty much the same as when we started coming here—like me, a bit older but still the same, mostly unnoticed. And the kids were so … Continue reading
Posted in death, prose, writing
Tagged autum, autumn poetry, equinox, journal writing, Memoir, mid-life crisis, nature poetry, poetry, short form, short prose, William Pearse writer
19 Comments
My name is Bill
I tried to step outside of my name, to look at it objectively. It was a plain name, handed down from my dad—and to him, from his father. It was like all the other things that get handed down, the … Continue reading
Near to fall
And so at last it was done, the book of poems I spent all summer with it seemed. They weren’t my poems, but became mine more and more each day. I sat on a chair in the grass and put … Continue reading
Posted in prose, writing
Tagged existentialism, journal writing, Memoir, mid-life crisis, nostalgia, pacific northwest, sentiment, short form, William Pearse writer
22 Comments
Gone are the 8 o’clock sunsets
How much was left undone by summer’s end, in the corner of our back yard by the maple tree. The work was coming in again, with everyone coming back from vacations and wanting their things fast-tracked, rush jobs. Learning all … Continue reading
Posted in identity, prose, writing
Tagged aging, journal writing, Memoir, mid-life crisis, pacific northwest, short form, William Pearse writer
18 Comments
