I've never really minded that feeling like cascading into uncertain futures or all the hours spent sleeping within sunbursts of diverging clarity. Oh, yes
cut the ciggy butt, the lonely blank skin, where underneath a city with blue millions run? or maybe a worm, who will grow a new heart, dark as soil, rich as dirt. or the extra s in cheeks smiling wearing dimples thin? i think the 'sunset' poem rocks!
14 comments:
sunset
hang me
she said, so i
did. upside down, pulling
her hair out of her face so she
could see.
i had
a scrunchie, tied
red tresses in a bun
redder yet from her heart runs
her blood.
alone
she hangs alone
i left her there, her hair
entwined with other carmines like
my love
Into the washing machine
I've never really minded that
feeling like cascading into
uncertain futures or all the
hours spent sleeping within
sunbursts of diverging
clarity. Oh, yes
I am
quite
myself
today.
love is not
a blue cell
all greasy with who should be calling who
love is not
how much can you send/spend
love is
getting pissed off because you no longer have his version of
I Wanna Be Your Dog
& can't bounce off of his words
to write things you actually like and keep
guarded
i'd
cut
actually
cut the ciggy butt, the lonely blank skin, where underneath a city with blue millions run? or maybe a worm, who will grow a new heart, dark as soil, rich as dirt.
or the extra s in cheeks smiling wearing dimples thin? i think the 'sunset' poem rocks!
i would like to if possible change, 'dirt' to 'blood'
i don't understand
why you want to take magic
out of my world.
you have your own box
stuff it full of doubt.
or discovery. it's
about point of view--spell
me some miracles from the moon.
woah these are cool
http://englishrussia.com/index.php/2010/04/19/russian-masterpieces-animated/#more-12515
and these...
rice art
What the dream holds
a sieve holding water, with damp
traces of a kind of passage
so I wake, without clues
just a taste of something having
been there, dry and bitter on the tongue
Life, no rain barrow,
usually, holds only a glimpse
2
two red birds darting
above the cat watch
your glass of wine
held by the stem
in the late afternoon light
soon the dark and whispering
memories, crunch of leaves
closing the door on the day
chopsticks
there are good lines
in there, like mushrooms
among noodles
what is the
'fell of dark'?
scanning the edge
or just
forgetting to log out?
did i ever look like i wanted
to be someone alone?
message from a dream
you were shaved and bloated
said i'm leaving in august.
why not now? you didn't answer
just shook your head as if i were
pretending to care. august
you repeated. i thought man
i better start saving the rent.
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