August 2012
48 posts
“It is late at night. I have already crossed the threshold of fatigue and am in the grip of something resembling inspiration.”—
Viktor Shklovsky, Third Factory
(Ohhh I do like… I will be reading more…)
“A more informal use of the term insanity is to denote something considered highly unique, passionate or extreme, including in a positive sense” -Wikipedia
July 2012
64 posts
It’s a hazy reflection everywhere I look and I hear the wise one say “You are me” And so I am you But it’s hazy ya know sometimes it’s like an itchy wool sweater and I just can’t figure out the wisdom in wearing Or the off key music only compassion can tolerate Sometimes it’s just so not me I start taking off all the me I thought I was I start trying to fit that and that is pretty miserable then,...
Memories are made
from the stories that stick in your mind.
Emotions of the moment stored away into the minds - heart.
-the little things-
a certain smile, texture…
a light kiss
It’s the smell of skin beneath cotton
lost into forever with an embrace
The caress of a gentle stream
enveloping the oceans passionate waves
It’s in the honest of just living
without the masks
without the...
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Trying to alter a manuscript is the insanity of suffering.
All the passion of a heated fever pitched labyrinth in a few well written pages.
There is the story of a Phoenix born from the ashes of burnt bridges.
The discovery channel of distraction and half time show that serves as “get by” until fears are quenched for happiness.
The card sharks playing predictable hands.
Savoring the jewel...
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Rant
Swim the Fucking Water or Go Home
I don’t know why I crave
The depth of the sea
The cold mysterious
Fleshing eating waters.
Still I say I’m going to swim there
Believe it or not
Every single fucking damn day
I get on my scuba gear
my flippers and my god damn mask
And then
put on the obnoxious oxygen tank as
If it makes a bit of difference
When I cant breathe
I can’t even swim
I...
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TT
I sometimes have these inner urges to walk up to certain people and verbally truth the shit out of them
As a creator of my universe,
I would like to take your location
And my location and bring them together.
…
The people in between?
No, they wont get squished!
…
See, I will lift your location on the grid into a sort of mole hill, then I will do the same to mine…like grid boobies!
…
Work? Oh, that’s simple, I will then install a light speed portal under your house that...
Copyright Law Of The United States →
A link for the amazing poets and writers I have read on Tumblr that are victim to (insert some horrible name here) that have stolen their words.
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Keep Calm and…
Keep Calm and…
Look, I gave it a go, and all that it did was breed complacent boredom.
Whose idea was this anyway? Why does everyone really think that keeping calm is the way? Maybe, for some of us, keeping calm is not the way.
For me, keeping calm is the wet wool blanket on my fierce passion.
Fuck that shit.
The Window Of Consciouness
Billions of reflections
Am I only one me?
Do I see within the tree
The very roots of my family
Do I feel myself formed from earth
And formed from stars
To question this one lifetime
As the very sands that twinkle
In the dark ‘I have forgotten’ sky
And the hate of myself
In the hate of those eyes
Scorned and judged for
Which I thought, only I thought
…or did
I love…how do I...
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What darkness did not see but the mirror to lighted soul
What darkness did not know but what was known
Through darkened awakening, and distant cries
The truth of the love, was within lights eyes
To silent the mind, and hear the heart
Where nothing became the new start
It was there that one once sat beneath the wooden bridge in a dungy coat of empty cries.
It was there that one found the identity bled into the careless woes of a poet, magician, and the muse called forth songs upon the weeping willows of mocking birds.
The dusty soul of vacant dreams, thwarted hope from the witches brewery the tyrant enchantress of fire and ice.
The self inflicted calling to...
Dance
I dance with you on smoky waters in enchanted forest and forgotten byways
Where the universe of star charts and symbols cease to exist in illusion and breath
Through our lungs out of that time.
The beast of entrapment that holds us down and says this or that is how we exist, in that
We do not exist at all.
I dance with you on smoky mountains, the Appalachians thriving wonder of...
“Love is a state of Being. Your love is not... →
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It’s a rainy day Saturday and I look upon the face of perfection. It is perfection to me, because I am artist, I am visual.
I am artist in some ravished street starved of the light, with only the broken black iron fixtures to gleam their joke and whisper the words “life” through the darkened shadows.
I stop to seek out the mist, for its longing to touch my patent skin, to glide its smooth touch...
Observation
I just want to observe that one from a far off distant shore, where nothing stands in the way of pure unadulterated self.
To see the act of valor, and vigilant observation of the child that has made his way from playpen to playground.
To see the toddler that observes the blade of grass in laughter and profound simplicity of being strummed into musical love and lore.
The walks of highest...
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