May 2013
150 posts
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If I could write love into
a poem, my days of writing
would end. For the definition
in its simplicity exceeds
the barrier of language
in thought, and feeling.
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I search the jungle of
the universe and love
endangered species.
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Daydream
I was drifting my way in and out of a daydream.
Where the back ground has the melody of
love songs, distant fragrant as gardenias white
upon the (somehow waterless) clouds. I imagine
from the theatre that burns like fire in my heart
an illustration in a story, of this man I feel I have
always known. I must know him in places just
outside, this realm. That there before my
blind eyes, is a...
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There is a crack in everything
in which the light of hopes and
dreams finds a way to flood
your life, with its song.
And if it should come
when the world of darkness
has become the cloak
of comfort knowing.
Will it awaken your heart
with the sadness of
realization, that something-
Something, has been missing.
That all the minutes, hours,
weeks, months- years
were dust now...
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Look within and see
The inspiration of
your just being, is
…POETIC
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I spent the afternoon
wrapped in your soul
I won’t fall, as long
as I watch where I’m going.
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You think its all about you
I think its all about me
We think its all about us
~
Its really not about anything
Its all about everything.
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I am not going
to pretend
to know where
this goes
I’m simply suggesting
that, we go for it.
The Barstool Prophet: Jack Kerouac's list of 30... →
Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
Submissive to everything, open, listening
Try never get drunk outside yr own house
Be in love with yr life
Something that you feel will find its own form
Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
Blow as deep as you want to blow
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Rambles Of Now
On one side of my dream the maggot infestation scribbles lies through telephone lines, in which my unwavering mothering begins to set up camp traps, and vortex to the dissolving of negativity.
In the inside, there is heaven where I find the emptiness echoing my untruth. Speaking from the corners that my deal to walk this path alone, as if the universe exchanges my womanly wants for...
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Elements
when you feel the
light of your floating body
move you into the blue
of sky, and all the strength
it takes to just turn a little
to the left or right, then you
see my dear, you have become
~
the wind (invisibility cloak)
~
when you feel the
heat as boiling through your
your blood, panting with fever
and all the strength is taken
just to grasp and gasp at normal
beating of...
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...
I wonder if somehow you
… are
……. through
……….with me
~
or if I am through with you
or are we just getting started
or are we just flowing in a river
or are we just eating in the garden
~
I guess, I never really do know
such thing, I just try to keep up
with the flow, and play my part.
~
Yet, I will tell you this secret
that in the night, when the story
is ever so quiet, I drift...
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The streets have
… gotten older
so it seems, that the houses
have decayed.
The rooms SEEM somehow
smaller<—-,
maybe even the color
has CHANGED.
~
But I can
always build a new home
in this same old land,
where
the lake still stirs in the
distance
evergreen
pine needles
still fall.
~
I will find that old shirt I often wore
and put on these new patches
of...
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The crest of a wave
in two fold beauty
washing the past
lifting my feet
undertow
flying
free
must
you turn
back to tide
so soon? We
were just starting
to swim even deeper.
Support You Favorite Writers Saturday
dsdwriting:
I just purchased:
“Awake” by Nicole Dyer
“Not Every Word A Fist” by Amelia M. Garcia
“1955” by Vance Osterhout
Support your fellow writers/bloggers/and me!
If you do buy someone’s book, share it with the world. or Tumblr at least.
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/TheVagaBondKing
Every penny spent on my book goes straight to the local liquor store.
Love!
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I feel like a
human tape recorder
wasting time trying
to control
the interview
Howitzer Literary Society: When you tell people... →
howitzerliterarysociety:
When you tell people you are an artist, you’re a poet, writer, musician, they instantly begin this passive-aggressive campaign to talk you out of it. You get the head nods first yeah, “oh neat” (and it’s always neat) and then you get smiles and an occasional, “I wish I could…” but it turns south…
I dig this.
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Something old is fretfully Forgotten in the tears of Yesterday and I used you like a widow-maker a wife-beater a torn shirt with blood stains and mud of my soul spread across your vast chest in a careless handprint. Don’t take it hard when Your ripples bled memories we can sit down together in the end and re-write the story. For then, we see beauty of our suffering is a pointless ...
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When the tags are taking up more space than the post.
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We stepped out of time
his hand in mine
and together we
shared “The Story”
by his perspective
I saw myself in
a new light and
history changed.
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I Need To Understand
Somewhere through the
halls of my mind is
the room of understanding
I am searching through
my darkest parts looking
for the nightlight on that
wall. In desperation
for finding the entire switch.
BECAUSE, I am a woman
who needs. I need to understand
WHY a man can be so cold.
WHY can he be so heartless
to the innocence of another?
This need to understand
has eaten at my own heart
...
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time blended
nowthenherenow
into one color
your eyes
distance melted
my heart
with
your smile
I am now
floating in space
or in a boat
or on a cloud
all of these places
in nowhere
but my own mind
where we are
embraced
in a kiss.
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memory is a bitch
patch work association
or recreated history?
imagination falls
in love with
the roots of my tree
embracing what
once was, letting them
sink further into
earth, as this tree
grows further
into the sky
when this bird
lays her head
down to rest,
it is in the tallest
willow tree
on earth.
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When
I just chill
the fuck out
the universe
plays a symphony
of Synchronicity
and nothing
else matters.
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Lets all do the
Quantum
bunny hop
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Universe mystery
unfolding, presently
healing my past.
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Shitty If-ism
IF I bled my passion
out upon the dusty roads
and it changed into
highways of light
would you THEN
open your eyes to
my existence?
IF I found the portal
of escape from mundane
and pasted it on your
office wall, would you
THEN open your mouth
and just breathe?
If I said, lets be friends
would you laugh or
continue to mute?
If’s are so shitty
the way they contemplate
this...
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Dreaming my-self in color
tasting crimson blue
sky crying tears of joy
dreams in a world
(agrammatical)
written language
of heart, spirit
welcoming veil
wraping listener
in shroud of un-speakable
truth.
The language-less mind
is free
stepping off the roller coaster
of limitations
in communications.
Into the visuals
of poetic paintings
emotion in light motion
shines colors as...
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His name was John and he told us how he once
hauled a man sized cross from
Texas to Tennessee, (on his back) He
took us up to the loft in backwoods
near the Canary’s (in-breeds’
known to make trespassers
disappear) Being four months
pregnant by the son of a local
legend, I was estrogen- strong.
Fearless, calm and exploratory.
John was once a chemical genius
who would Jekyll and Hyde...
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The Short Story Man
He was a short story man, only stood 5’2”
And wore a button up shirt with tennis shoes
Life within his back pocket to tour the world
Historical boy landmarks of ignorant whorled
The other was a stampede of self-induced “I”
colorful kindness packed boned dry
with outspoken afflictions that he read
as waves of perfection upon his head
Together they set out upon the run
poet, pretty boy and...
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The Lady and The Wolf
Sharpened steel blade
reaching for freedom
Soul singing illusions
through these delusions
as she drifts on chalky resin
of unseen streams of
photon highways
When walking through hollows
of the mind there sits within
misty edge upon water fields and vines
the lady who stirs the water of soul
into the mirage of what may be.
The wolf cries songs of sadness
in the back-ground of the...
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WANT
I want to embrace the sky
In an endless wonder
fly within the clouds
and wash my face
from the impurities of life
I want to drink the sea as salt
merges with my flesh into
the folds of waves
the cool emeralds of lost ships
nesting
Fill my lungs with the essence
of forgotten famines
feel the rusted ore through
the fingerprints of my soul
I want to reach the highest tree
as the leaves...
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Ode to my Poetic Secrets!
Silence voice behold
dreamy mind reveal
falling leaf told
what snow can conceal
Passion sun unfold
flowing river real
Silence will speak
if we listen
as we seek
out endless time
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Awaken
Awaken now the passion
the fire the spark.
Breed forth inspiration
by the presence
of a long lost dream.
Awaken the fantasy
let the illusion grow.
Awaken the poet
to express
the breath of soul.
Awaken in the night
with a haunting dream.
Awaken words forgotten
let them flow
from the caverns
of her heart.
Awaken this maddened poet
let the pages fly
inspiration allow
her soul to...
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Tonight I shall consume science
regurgitate into my alchemist pot
brewing these words
churn them through fire
throw them down on ice
Drink them straight shot
become one with the blood
pricked finger that fills
the pen of my poetry.
Why oh why should I
do such exhaustive means
just to get attention?
To muse the mute and
write poems of love to
the haters.
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To Be in Half a Dozen Realms at Once
I am the seagull feeling wind
slide against my feathers
as the sea energy soothingly
kisses my heart gracefully.
~
I am the raven feeling suns
heat hard hitting against
my glossy back-black feathers
as the sand hungers for
a tear drop from eyes
that never cry.
~
I am the hawk feeling bark
of the oak tree merging
with talons as I scan field
for rodent that scurries against
the...
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Upon darkened
sheets of time
where memory
serves me bitter
cold hostess nowhere.
simplify life in
ebbs and flow
of pure energy
where light and
string vibrate
the melody of truth
that is no truth
awakening dream
fly upon clouds
of consciousness
cold air upon flesh
such a reminder
human being
is still just in being
beyond some
fabricated sorrows
where heart
bleeds...
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I play my words a blind pianist
letting them flow from my mind
My heart-
through arms -hands to fingers
that punches keys
That I have somehow registered
through the years of just playing
Just playing the letters…
music the poet’s words often be-come
my mind drifts through
thoughts as they are dreams
they are the dream
of someone who is trying
to just understand
What the dream is...
