Rowan Finley

Joined February 2019

1195 stories

Bio

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

Stories (1195)

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Is The Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) a Great Personality Tool?
Have you ever wondered why some people in life are just so easy to get along with? Or, have you shuddered when some people just continuously rub you the wrong way? Everyone has such a unique personality, don't they?
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Humans
Reese’s Pieces, Candy Kaleidoscope
I was being a bit of a mope, until my dear friend Cope, stopped by to bring me Reese's peanut butter cups and a kaleidoscope!
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
120 Here We Come!
Bow your heads for the reading of our will… our will to live as long as we possibly can. Age 120, year we come!
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Tucked Into the Fiction
You discovered the radiating truth tucked into the fiction. Yes, the entry was mine, but never did I commit the described crime.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Half a Heart (Part 2)
Author’s Note: If you haven’t read part one written by Komal, then please be sure to do so via the link below before reading this part two.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Fiction
The Rose That Waits (Part 6)
Rose rubbed her eyes, squinting at the bright sun. “A dream?” She asked aloud in utter shock. Her heart sunk with heavy defeat.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Fiction
Creativity, it flows from our veins
Creativity, it flows from our veins, we can’t keep from holding it back with reins. It just has to burst up like a geyser of wild water free,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Inspired by “Time’s Fragility” Written by Marvelous Michael
Author’s Note: Marvelous Michael recently wrote a poem that inspired me to turn it into a song. To read her powerfully crafted poem, follow the link below:
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Wild 🤪 Goose Chase
Wildly, he chased the geese up the hill, they bustled and set off in flight. He looked on, as if he still might have a chance at catching just one.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Fair Only Spins on Ferris Wheels
Fair only spins on Ferris wheels, and how can one control one’s deepest churning feverish feels? Fair only spins on Ferris wheels,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Highway of Your Hands
I feel my heart speeding on the highway of your hands. World’s endless, taxing demands, they didn’t even matter anymore,
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
hexagon flies
Hexagon flies flitting, cool, damp night, simply sitting. Head spinning from week’s drama, while I worry about my next comma.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets