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and the rest is history sort of......DAVID EIDE.COM

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tolarstories


eidestories



eidestories



moreeidestories



hellstories



eidepoems


Reflections at night when the dark is good and we see further. A short meditation.
"A silent conjunction between what one thinks and what has been thought."



parables

Brief Tales on a Whim.
There is nothing more pitiful than the storyteller without his stories.



nuclear

Meditations on the 60th Anniversary of Hiroshima What would the end of the world entail? Do we boast that we can imagine such a thing?


fatstories

3 short stories. $3


lamentations

In the apprenticeship period hopes are high.
"But then, who will save us from our own crimes?"


eidestories

political

The manuscripts are under $8.
NEW!

THE SHORT, HAPPY HISTORY OF A WRITING LIFE by David Eide:


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YOUTH

When youth is confident in itself the city brightens; gangling bells of happy people float through the heart of the city.

The heart doesn't stop when it is coldly observed by the paralytic mind.

Wild music, wild poets, wild women- the moment human existence cries out, "you have no power over my destiny!"

Youth the happy destroyers who, in maturity, become the very things they despised.

Youth that expands to fit the world in, until the skin is lit with the cities of ancient memories.

Youth at the edge of the ocean thinking it is walking on water.

Youth: the last time one believes that human beings can live in peace.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The two dominant forms of youth were the radical critique and the "confession". Confession meaning "I, the author, am the subject of my concerns rather than the community."

This came out of the fact that human nature was pegged as the enemy in a manner of speaking. That human nature had produced a monstrosity in the form of modern society and was now in flight from it.

Isn't it necessary to reject the authority in things for a moment in time?

Ruthless competition was seen as leading to ultimate conflict. That was a significant notion at that time.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A good deal of it had to do with "California." California is driven and/or split between dual drives of material success and human perfection. How can there be perfection if there is no emptying out of one's imperfections? Ah, so it is.

And we wake one day to try and capture a moment of exquisite knowledge or consciousness that signalled, long ago, that we were meant to witness things on planet Earth.

So then we retreat, backing away from our deep intention as though he have met a wild animal along the woodsy trail.

Perhaps it is merely a shadow we left at some indescribable time, accompanied by a laughing woman.

Something is encouraging about the fact that when we are poised to say something great we fall silent, dubmfounded by our lack of energy, suddenly recounting the connections we have put together over the year to help us in times of trouble.

Go to the Writing Life Archive.