The distractions are monstrous the drive to replace the mask of positivity and the plague of territorial jealousy like a jack in the box I never wound but I love when it rains and I love when you show your true face the rugged one the one you’ve hidden in your arm pit insisting itContinue reading “Elsewhere”
Tag Archives: Poetry
Caged from Words
I pace back and forth like a caged animal waiting for a stray hand and an unsuspecting little one Maybe just one time they won’t pay attention and I can slip them between the bars Some eye me down and to show them who’s boss I lick my lips and then theirs and then my ownContinue reading “Caged from Words”
Doors
Derrida, Deconstruction & Of Grammatology
Artists
The road winds in a manner that seems as if I keep walking in circles but there are very subtle differences differences only a curious person would notice like the flowers are a different shade of blue or the bugs are crawling on their backs rather than their bellies Makers of art wander on andContinue reading “Artists”
the unwritten character
Grinning she fills her hands with cupcakes and her pockets with candies. There’s no bringing her down. Her head is in the clouds full of happy dreams fed to her from a tv screen. She’s one positive guru with her bad feelings black and charred secretly tucked in the base of her Medulla. Her secretsContinue reading “the unwritten character”
Little purple person
Who are you when you’re not looking, when that sweat is dripping from your brow When your feet are up on the couch. Can you define yourself? Not your hobbies or your top responsibilities, but who you are, those spaces, between your out-right maddening choices? “I’m a little purple person,” it whispered in my ear. “IContinue reading “Little purple person”
Snuggles
I just wanna snuggle. I wanna wrap my arms around him or make him rub my belly. I just need him close cuz I missed him lots today.
song tune
The moon the sky Have I heard her song Is the tune my own The lyrics circle my car Echoes of ghosts ask if I’ve eaten They take my hand and offer me raw honey The bees vibrations buzz around me Do I have to ask if they’ll sting?
Symbols- revisited
She asks for symbols while I doodle stars and hearts in blue ink across the top of a blank page Maybe I don’t get it, Professor Maybe I never will I’m on to circles and squares Images of old Egyptian pillars appear containing hieroglyphs with no meaning Evoke the imagination She voicesContinue reading “Symbols- revisited”
Puddle of Life
Life leaked out my finger tips It was a sloppy puddle of mush leaving only a carcass of skin slabbed on bone Like a chicken on a cheerful walk to the slaughterhouse emptied mindless and tired -Saschia