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lovelesseverywhere i see you everywhere. on the streets of the places i wander without you. on the backs of my eyelids between dreams and nightmares; (of hateful saboteurs and vengeful pariahs bent on the dessication of my barely breathing humanity). i hear your voice in my memories, returning at inopportune moments to glaze my eyes over. to entice my fickle consciousness away. i feel your presence in my breath. in my life and healing scars. your scent is asloveless
immediate to me as the sensation of a thousand burning tears dammed up by stubbo
by ~sleeplessjewel
gutter glassesmy sweet and dainty - rose coloured - bifocals were so utterly weightless that i (didn't realise? forgot? ignored? denied?) i was ever wearing them at all.gutter glasses
that deadly combination of romantically tinted vision, unadulterated hope and a naive penchant for logic, reason and rationality - doomed this wide-eyed sceptic to search for plans and plots, solutions, answers, timelines, maps; to realign our wayward love, to rescue us from ourselves,
to break our hearts before they broke themsleves.
in a vain, misdirected effort to guide the cracks, to salvage larger p
by ~sleeplessjewel
blossomit's amazing isn't it, how an unconscious gesture, a half-tone rise in the tune of her voice, or even the strings that join your words together, can peel the petals back from my world - crush that modest,blossom
soft blush of life, and reveal the rotten, aphid-ridden
sickly truth that writhes within.
by ~sleeplessjewel
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it is not enoughit is not enough just to miss you. i have to learn how to walk again; how to live without meat and kissing, how to sleep shaped like a balled up fist. it is not enough just to miss you. i have to adopt twins init is not enough
Africa, name them Lost and Weird, forget to feed them. i have to go to every pet store in America and rescue all the seahorses. i have to tattoo D A R K B I R D
inside my lip and stand in children's playgrounds like a broken arm, creaking. it is not enough just to miss you. it has to hurt. i have to write poem
by ~emilygolightly
Processes of PurityWhen Jeremy and I Walk down Westmoor in February, I know the Nasturtium leaves have Collected rain water in the Center of their green veined Hearts. The glass beads haveProcesses of Purity
Gathered large and clear and the Cavities of our chests lay Open and convex. Willing we are, for the
Desert there knows no quench. Green will purify the acid run-off As it puddles within us. Breathing Droplets will filter through the
Flimsy cheesecloth and Strike the sand in silence. Perhaps Light will transfigure each into Bits
by ~letitmellow
SummerWebbed skin stretches a pale oddity across my spread toes.Summer
Push
against the hanging heat low, sea-level lurking, cocooning my unfolded body.
drops of coolness, beads sliding down my copper-sun skin. Evaporate not- absorb.
water filled balloon, bobbing lazily, a frog's translucent
egg, tinged with the promise of pink.
Heat pulls it down, pinions me to the concrete sidewalks
always scraping my grass-stained knees.
by ~Striped-Candycane
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: somewhere in Oz
- Interests: poetry,international politics,foreign languages, art
- Favourite band or musician: the shins, the kooks, howling bells, decemberists
- Favourite genre of music: non-techno
- Favourite artist: degas
- Favourite poet or writer: everybody
- Operating System: human
- Shell of choice: tortoise
- Favourite game: life
- Favourite gaming platform: twister
- Favourite cartoon character: sailor moon
- Personal Quote: first with the head & then with the heart
- Tools of the Trade: my pulsating brain
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--
"This is wine red, this is the death of beauty" - The Hush Sound
--
Champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends
i like your poetry
and think i shall watch you
x
--
I am just a good
for nothing - companion
of moon and flower
- Bill Wyatt
Your gallery is going to be my home for the next few days.
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