morning blues

By -
the cold wind in my eyes
does nothing to chill the warmth
of a bright blue and white morning
crunching beneath my feet

[original post]

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

golding's narcissus and echo - modernized

By -
source: shakespeare's ovid being arthur golding's translation of the metamorphoses (edited by w.h.d. rouse.) Page 71 The first that of his soothfast wordes had proufe in all the Realme, The first in all the realm to receive proof of the truth of his words Was freckled Lyriop, whom sometime surprised in his streame, Was freckled Lyriop, who was once taken by surprise in Cephisus' waters The floud Cephisus did enforce. This Lady bare a sonne The flood god took her by force, and the lady bore him a son Whose beautie at his verie birth might justly love have wonne. whose beauty from birth justly deserved all love. 430 Narcissus did she call his name. Of whom the Prophet sage She called him Narcissus, and asked the wise Prophet Demaunded if the childe should live to many yeares of age, if the child would live many years, Made aunswere, yea full long, so that him selfe he doe not know. And he answered, Yes, a long life, as long as he does not kn...
Read more

sex education as done by the wondering workshop

By -
everything begins, and ends, with an orgy. everything is better with lesbians. the funny thing about birds and trees is that if the birds aren't getting it on then the trees don't get to reproduce. even piloting a giant disguised in fur through virtual bowels is not enough to dampen sexual urges. when an author loves a subject very much, he pulls out his pen and begins to tentatively stroke the pages with it until he believes that he is performing satisfactorily. he then dives in, eventually, sometimes fairly quickly, sometimes after only a few words if he's a poet, covering the pages with his ink in what he hopes is an experience as enjoyable and climactic for the reader as it is for him. sometimes there is no climax, which can be a frustrating experience for everyone - although there are always some people who appear to enjoy it anyway. sometimes, if lots of people are enjoying an author who is taking his time, he will die before finishing and that will leave a bitter t...
Read more

role models

By -
Image
for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physical body it's been a decade since he died, but he still sneaks his whispers through my throat whenever you and i fight grips my vocal cords and squeezes tight strangling tones i wonder sometimes if he thinks that he's defending me or if this is his revenge exposing himself to *my* loved ones sliding his arrogance and his violence beneath words that i'd intended to use soothingly the horror that i feel when i hear myself overridden and see my own responses reflected in yours is the stomp of his feet on my steps the thump-thump-thumping that says a beating's coming it's in the tightening in my chest when you put me in my place when you hold up a mirror for me to see his angry, desperate, lonely face but i'll never be like him i'll never burn myself to set fire to others never revel in the type of winning t...
Read more