Biography of Dairedee BurrisLandwehr
I left Kansas, and am now hitch-hiking for experience and the pursuit of writing as it is a burning thing consuming us all. Feed the fire.
'We fail, only if we stop writing.' -Bradbury
Dairedee BurrisLandwehr's Works:
Some short stories and poems at EHS, ACCC & ESU the 'Inferno' and the 'Quivira' websites and annual literary magazines. I am working on putting together larger pieces for self publication, and helping with starting online publishing: Duende.
Dairedee BurrisLandwehr Poems
Coffee And Cigarettes
she slumped over the round table, which had belonged to her mother,
My mother drove barefoot Setting the needle at 80 Eating up the road Like ashes of a lover.
We are hanging by threads tossed down like life-lines from pinpoints
I Sat Down
It's a beautiful day. b-e-a-utiful. The grass smells sweet and fresh. The sky is so blue and clear, I feel as if I can reach up and touch it.
Just Dessert, Please
The masses cry out The scream and they shout for a champion a cure-all, save-all, end-all
On some long stretch of highway Paved with false hope and dead dreams I watch headlight beams In a race
I am the downfall of the hierarchy. I bring powerful figureheads to their knees. I am the one who is held responsible Though my crime is the opening of eyes
Phases And Seasons
May nights surprise me like sweet words from a stranger, or harsh ones from a lover. I am never ready for either. The
The crickets sing a lullaby in the night wind, which saws through trees with such ease it carries me off to high seas a high i can't refuse;
Ode To Karen
I'm tracing my way through cracked linoleum Following lines etched with footsteps of those who passed before me They are faceless and unknown, shadows;
One Way Conversation
I'm not sure where I'm going with this Or even where I'm coming from. These words don't substitute
Life. It's bigger than you & me. What good does selling used cars and insurance do? What gratification does your life get from that? There are too many people out there being normal,
I remember the shells One after another; we shifted From sight to sight Wanderers; Always moving
The pitter patter patterns Surround in surround sound The lullaby that lulls you If you'd stop and listen
I remember the shells
One after another; we shifted
From sight to sight
Wanderers; Always moving
looking, searching, living
but were we really?
Could you call our Life,
That ever-changing existance-
A Life? or were we the only ones?