SAFETY IN WORDS
The best thing about writing
was that when you were doing it,
when you were hunched over some pad of paper,
stabbing at lines with the ink,
for the most part,
nobody fuckin’ bothered you.
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"it's easy to be a bad writer, but it's hard to wake up each day and devote a chunk of your life to bad writing."
About Me
- Jackson Warfield
- Jackson Warfield was born in a small town in New Hampshire on a dead end road. He has traveled widely and worked a variety of jobs, from digging ditches to walking dogs. He writes for entertainment, his own and others.
Followers
Blog Archive
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2008
(297)
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April
(71)
- A POEM - MY HOPE
- A POEM - THE SADDEST MAN IN THE WORLD
- A POEM - HARD GOING
- A POEM - THE LITTLE QUESTION
- A POEM - IT WASN'T MUCH BUT IT WAS SOMETHING
- A POEM - MORE THOUGHTS FROM THE SIDES OF THE ROADS
- A POEM - IT WASN'T THE AVERAGE RIDE FROM THE AVERA...
- A POEM - FATHER TO SON
- A POEM - DECISIONS
- A POEM - INTERPRETING SLANG
- A POEM - HE WAS HOOKIE
- A POEM - HE TOLD ME WHAT WAS ON HIS MIND
- A POEM - THE STRANGE QUESTION
- A POEM - FULL MOON
- “it was a cool feeling to have sometimes,to just k...
- A POEM - ANGELO VELLA
- A POEM - DAY SLEEPERS
- A POEM - THEY BEAT HIS ASS AND STOLE HIS SHOES
- A POEM - SAFETY IN WORDS
- A POEM - OH NO
- A POEM - BUSTED
- A POEM - WITH HOPE IN ONE HAND AND A BOTTLE IN THE...
- A POEM - HERE WE GO AGAIN, AGAIN
- A POEM - I WAS ALWAYS TERRIBLE WITH WOMEN
- A POEM - CHOOSING MY WORDS WISELY
- A POEM - SENTIMENTS OF THE MISERABLE
- A POEM - MORE HOBBIES OF THE DOOMED
- A POEM - ALONE
- A POEM - NOT IT
- A POEM - EVERY DRINK WAS A LIE
- A POEM - THE PRAYER BEFORE THE MEAL
- A POEM - THE SURPRISE
- A POEM - WE SAT AROUND DOING NOTHING AND MAKING RA...
- A POEM - IT WASN'T EASY
- A POEM - A CALL FROM SEBBE
- A POEM - ROUTINES OF THE DAMNED
- A POEM - DOWN TIMES
- A POEM - THE HEAVEN THAT BECAME A HELL
- A POEM - THE FIRST QUESTION OF THE DAY
- A POEM - THOUGHTS ON STRING CHEESE
- A POEM - EVEN A LITTLE COULD BE TOO MUCH
- A POEM - HOBBIES OF THE DAMNED
- A POEM - I SURE SHOWED HIM
- A POEM - THE WIND AT MIDNIGHT
- A POEM - CONCERNING MY WRITING
- A POEM - WITH THE IRON BLANKET DRAPED OVER MY BODY
- A POEM - THE HOUSE SITTER
- A POEM - THE PEARLS WON'T FILL MY STOMACH
- A POEM - HOUSE SITTING FOR MILLIONARES
- A POEM - THE BEST PLACE YET
- A POEM - A SUCKY LITTLE TOWN CALLED BUNBURY
- A POEM - HER WORLD OF FRIENDS
- A POEM - HE USED TO WORK FOR ME
- A POEM - SOFT KICKS IN THE STOMACH
- A POEM - ADDICTED TO THE ROAD
- A POEM - LIFE IS A TALE THAT MUST BE TOLD
- A POEM - THE GREAT IDIOT DRINKER
- A POEM - THE ADAPTIVE RACE
- A POEM - SEEK NOT TO FIND
- “The road could be great, wild times,Or it could b...
- A POEM - THE WORDS OF THE TRUCKERS
- A POEM - THE MAGIC WORD
- A POEM - THE LIAR
- A POEM - THE LONG SLOW ROAD
- A POEM - FUCK YOU FROM ADELAIDE
- A POEM - HER NAME WAS NICKY BUT SHE WENT BY SHORTY
- A POEM - THOUGHTS ON THUMBING
- A POEM - HOW I FELT BEFORE HITCH HIKING ACROSS AUS...
- A POEM - MY WORLD IN THOSE DAYS
- A POEM - THE BRICK THAT WAS ALWAYS EGGING ME ON
- A POEM - THE ROOM MATE
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April
(71)
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