As part of our Lost in Time series, we present you with an Artist Spotlight on Andrew Wetmore. Andrew Wetmore is a poet and musician located in Anaheim, California. His work has appeared in City Brink, Pink Attic Review, and Vagabond City. Below you’ll find two of Andrew’s poems, very different in subject, but with similar detached yet anxious tones.
Sometimes I find myself trying not to sleep while I’m biting down on my own teeth realizing I just need to think and breathe. Counting sheep doesn’t work but the thought of counting does.
During times like these I form into a shapeless mass like what happens when water and street oil meet. And although there isn’t much to hold there seeps a feeling deep beneath the thick comforter that is my psyche and waits for sleep as it lingers on to all the colors and shading. There is where I reflect universally. Continue reading
My heart betrayed me with its loud beat. Even the trees were leaning in to hear its call. Even the comet stopped in the heavens overhead.
When he turned, unfolding out of a tree trunk, I stood still. Finally.
“I don’t want to stay,” I said. “I want to go on.”
“Only Time goes on,” he answered.
“Then I want to go back,” I sighed.
“No back. Time goes straight through the tunnel of light, through the woods, through the hole in the universe, and starts again. You can hide in the tree. Time won’t find you there.”
“I found you there,” I laughed, suddenly running with the beats of my heart deeper and deeper until the big mouth at the end swallowed even my concept of flight.
This has been “Dark Wood” by Christine Emmert, the fourth piece in our “Lost In Time” Sleepless Stories series.
Christine Emmert is a writer, actress , director and educator. She lives at the edge of her own dark wood in Pennsylvania with her husband Richard and her amazing dog, Raja. Performing throughout the eastern half of USA her plays, poetry and prose writings have been seen throughout the English speaking world. Presently THE NUN’S DRAGON (a novella) is out on Amazon Kindle and her blog can be accessed at christineemmert.wordpress.com.
The Insomniac Propaganist is pleased to announce the next installment of our Sleepless Stories series. Edition four, “Lost in Time”, explores the several ways in which one might become lost, be it physically, cerebrally, or something in between. Yet time, the consistent drummer, marches on, beating out the minutes and hours that mark our passage through life. What then, would become of a person who got lost in time itself?
Below, please find “3am, Here, Again”, an evocative and gritty piece of prose by Kiernan Norman, the first offering from our “Lost in Time” series.
I try to live Here. Here is humid-sticky-underground-dance-hall hot. I’m caught tight in a mess of limbs- bodies stretch and sway from this to Eden. I have never been more lonely. Together we inhale metallic Old Spice. Together we exhale stale tap water hymns. I am breathing all alone. Continue reading