January 2012
1 post
September 2011
2 posts
2 tags
“Have you heard about the vast libertarian conspiracy? We want to take over the...”
– Wes Messamore, the Humble Libertarian (via scatteredaesthetics)
December 2010
37 posts
5 tags
5 tags
3 tags
6 tags
6 tags
3 tags
6 tags
5 tags
6 tags
5 tags
5 tags
5 tags
4 tags
2 tags
3 tags
4 tags
5 tags
5 tags
4 tags
4 tags
6 tags
5 tags
5 tags
Violet
Hear that wind, son?
That is the breath of your father As he blows in your ear. Come off to bed, hold on to my hand while you can, And pajama romp to the pillow queen. My boy, let me dress your round feet in slipping ram horn shoes And lion’s mane socks.
If any uncertain shadows come creeping across the sheets Burn them with your dragon scale tongue And never forget about me
Because I feel...
6 tags
8 tags
Humming in Our Sleep
Walk with me
Skimming out feet on the old street wood Turn a heel and let the pale current sweep you away Past blue towers of ice, spun by a spoon in space Impressionist cascades, and angels in the blue out Shining mischievously like of far off city lights Reflected on the surface of the water Or like our souls Glint and danced about in semi-circles And new step dancing in the moon And blurbirds,...
4 tags
4 tags
5 tags
Orange Lozenge:
I was flung Into rhymes, And I lunged At the seemingly unspeakable sponge, All grungy and grimed like a door hinge In line for the scavengers to dine on Then pick beneath their teeth, To explunge all the grime and the grunge From their tongues, Then suck an orange flavored Lozenge While squaking: that was hardly a challenge.
(I would like to announce to the world the Orange is no longer alone.)
5 tags
5 tags
2 tags
Studying for my Math Final is hard,
So i write poetry that rhymes with Orange
instead.
3 tags
6 tags
6 tags
5 tags
Notebook Ink
A couple of simple pen patterns in my notebook, moleskin, Sure, they were thin to begin with but they grew, them arrangements, they grew like angel grapevines, Rumpelstiltskin lines, namelessly, rattling through: Heute back ich, unruly and rude spinning my checkerboard ink that sticks in a slew unheard of, spitting insane: Heute back ich, while darkening the edges of the frame with an...
6 tags
6 tags
Jack-In-The-Box
Tell me, is the jack-in-the-box shy; Is he lonely in his wooden cage? For when I visit on rainy days, He comes out smiling and singing praise.
Tell me, is the jack-in-the-box cold; Does he shiver his inhuman can? For his face is ice to summer hands, And he shakes, on his wobbling stand.
Tell me, does the jack-in-the-box cry While he is crammed in his splintered home? For:– I cry,– when I’m...
6 tags
5 tags
5 tags
November 2010
22 posts
5 tags
Calm My Magenta Complexion
Calm my magenta complexion; Soothe my blue evening bed In the lavender trees.
Tall mama, tell me a stand, A wintry bedtime tale: Vox frigida concers Somnus vincit omnia.
Bring your always worn lips And your quite often gloss. With the unmentioned aurora Underneath both our eyes, Sleep beneath Eros’s amour skies Near the welcoming autumnal breeze.
It is a lonely velvet evening,...
4 tags
4 tags
6 tags
Smoke in the Place of God
A shivering whoosh of wind, sweeps across The valley of ashes; the sky ignites like an apocalypse. “Oh, please,” cries the maddening crowd, “let it be the end.” Silence from heaven.
March sings his villanelle of summertime, orchestral swells: “Smoke climbs into the place of God And we crawl below like ants. Fuel the fires with logs, our brother’s arms, and any ends, and any odds. And...
claudepage asked: Wow your poetry's like really up there, it's very creative and beautiful...
maybe you can check out my poetry and give me feedback
if you have time :) THANKS and keep up the good work
maybe you can check out my poetry and give me feedback
if you have time :) THANKS and keep up the good work
5 tags
Somewhat the Porch Rose
My red petals wilting inward upon a shivering filament, The garnishing lavender sticking in my stigma like thorny twigs, I lie depressed on the cement, Shrinking sepal pressing in on me, denting my color. Each stamen sways and flails in the milky frosted gale.
I am somewhat the porch rose Left alone to the north wind’s cold. Yet, it is not in me to limp home Where palling pain subsides to...
6 tags
