A History of Text Messages Sent to a Baby Bear (Without One Response)
An absurd, humorous book comprising imagined ridiculous text messages sent to a baby bear.
Positive Images, Part II
A book comprising a series of poems, vignettes, stories, and aphorisms of both whimsical and contemplative natures (that follows a similar set of stories from Timothy's book Positive, Curious, and Cold Images).
Cold Images, Part II
A book comprising a series of poems, vignettes, and stories of macabre and sometimes graphically violent natures (that follows a similar set of stories from Timothy's book Positive, Curious, and Cold Images).
Stories and Poems from Underground
A book showcasing a mix of absurd, fanciful, and contemplative stories and poems.
Finding a Way Out
Through a mix of journal entries, poems, transcribed dreams, and play-like scripts, this autobiographical book recounts intense personal challenges that Timothy faced throughout young adulthood.
Positive, Curious, and Cold Images
A long book of often plotless stories divided into three types: dark, absurd, and warm.
Serious to Experimental Poems
A book of poems divided into the following relatively self-explanatory sections:
I. Experimental Poems
II. Nonsense Poems
III. Semi-Nonsense Poems (Humorous Poems)
IV. Imaginative Poems
V. Serious Poems
VI. Self-Proclaimed "Maxims"
Is That a Cow?
Is that a cow lying on top of a large coat button floating in outerspace?
It's the bottom of a flag pole––assuming we are looking at the same thing.
Aves aves, dail-buoles in the wind,
Grabes grabes, high-forte tron quib.
Fall-thright fall-thright, high have ye bore,
Nalstreem nalstreem, heighst toward lore.
Trumpets for Alaska
Hi, I'm starting up a nonprofit to help benefit the children of Alaska. The mission is to aid children, and/or the elderly, in learning to play the trumpet. If you feel led to help, please send me any trumpets you have––used, new, or toy. If you don't have any trumpets, it is fine to send shoes, pictures of shoes, eggs, or pictures of eggs. Please forward your donations to:
949 800th Avenue
Wellsington, ML 010010100
To reach me by landline or fax, please e-mail me your birth certificate, at 1-800-9xxx.
Impossible Modern Buses
Riding on this noiseless clean and modern fuzzily-interiored bus I sit the only passenger but near the pearly-bearded smiling driver as he reaches back to hand me well-ripened tomatoes and tangerines I happily eat upon warmly gazing into the setting sky met by the saltish gleam of its first star Venus, where I hope soaringly approaches in his own modern bus the small smiling wrinkled creature whose darkly blue eyes I met miles back by a rusted wire fence to the left of this seemingly eternal semi-vegetated desert's rural highway that doesn't exist.
Circles on Earth
The Earth as if agriculture and settlement had never Been
Thousands of years past the last of fallen Structures
A thick black gel coats all living and non-living Things
Millions of square miles of fields and Trees
Swamps and marshes lying pure and Clean
The oceans cloudless and suffused with Life
For all but a time where a certain Ape
Slowly defeated yet its own Self
With all it altered for no one's Need
The Earth without agriculture or Settlement
Thousands of years before the first Structures
A thick black gel coats all living and non-living Things
The History of Unmet Human Longings
From the birth of man,
A bloodline of unrequited love
and desires unfulfilled,
An unfading disease of hollowing undeserved unrecognition,
The legacy of neglect, abuse, and dismissal,
of starving loneliness,
The unbroken custom of ignored important messages,
and all leaving the poisoning question,
Am I worth what I think I am?
Let the collective wound of the desperate throughout time bind and comfort us.
A Thick Blue Gel
As I started to fill the bathtub, I noticed some thick blue gel drooping from the faucet, so I turned the water off. Yet, the gel still drooped out and in only greater amounts. Stepping out of the tub so as not to get any on me, I noticed the gel also seeping from the ceiling corners and stretching down the walls. And turning back around, I noticed the tub now filling exponentially faster and faster with this gel––both from the faucet and down from the ceiling.
I sat down in the corner of the bathroom to gather my emotions but soon became nearly covered with this gel myself. I flusteredly hurried to open the window to let some air in and maybe somehow stop all this, but about a dozen bees almost immediately rushed in and almost immediately became stuck in the gel. And these bees were followed by more and more, hundreds soon wiggling across every few inches of the blue substance now flooding the entire bathroom.
I tried to rush out through the bathroom door, but it hardly budged open, gel covering all parts of it, including a foot of its base. I soon slipped anyway and, despite my body's thrashings, became stuck in the gel. I thought I would drown. But, even while covered with bees still multiplying with the gel, I only felt myself floating into something like plush grey clouds.
Turning to look around, I saw only heavy smoky clouds except across an expanse of clear skies ahead of me. And, looking below, I found myself gliding above a landscape of plains and rocky bluffs. As I began to realize that I was flying, I also noticed surrounding me the moderately loud rumble of thunder neither decreasing nor increasing in volume or intensity.
But it was not just thunder, but thunder and the booming deep bark of a dog echoing from maybe a mile behind. But these noises neither subsided nor altered, and I followed them around the world forever as a storm.
That will be fine,
Everything will work out,
I can help,
This is for you,
I will hold you when you need me to,
I love you,
No Story So Beautiful
No story so beautiful
as the pasts we carry,
each a curved and winding line
of warmth and desire to forget,
of detailed triviality and horror,
faded in parts and brightly vivid in others,
our stories as remembered,
which transcend the linearity of telling.
•To search for explanation with a life of only such searching is to chase the wind with neither known direction nor supportive ground.
•We do not disappear, we are not replaced.
We impact, and so do those that we impact
so that our impact is never lost.
•All these lines we use to describe types of people intersect so many different lines until points where near-infinite lines intersect to create each individual.
•Everyone's life story could be a classic and inspiring movie.
•All beautiful dreams are derived from reality; our greatest imaginings are tied to our lives already.