I come from a long line of black faces sculpted from the dry, jet black meat of a sunflower. Created in thirty different shades of black, but all given the same smile. White smiles as shiny and sly as the fat beads of sweat running down the sun’s thick neck. These faces and smiles traveled… Continue reading From a Flower
The burgundy bugs crawl all around in my brain. Dancing under the pink meat of my face. Their little sticky, sinister feet march again and again. If I wasn’t insane I’d probably feel the bass of their feet dancing under the pink meat of my face. Chomping on the raw insides of my cheeks… Continue reading A Pantoum on Infestation
Sonnet 2: The Blues A blue butterfly landed on my windowsill last night and I let him in because you had the same eyes. But his skin was blue and yours was black but your aura had a blueness to it. Do you still feel that way sometimes Blue? You never told… Continue reading Sonnet 2: The Blues
Sonnet 1: A Love Poem I’m exactly what you said I would be. The sin, the stain, the blood, the pain, the wrath, the greed. I’m nothing more than you thought of me. I’m just like your nightmares, except I bleed. My blood reeks of salty teardrops and hate. It reeks of soggy darkness… Continue reading Sonnet 1: A Love Poem
He stood there. Co-existing with Water Grass Mountains Every form of a beating heart. He looked down. He was too busy In the rocks To notice The gray sky cast above. He chose the rocks. Over the Water Grass Mountains His heart. He chose the rocks. The Sulking Dark… Continue reading Blood and Stones.
AB. The blood. Blood of his story. Bandaged. The blood. Blood of his story. Abrasive. The blood. Blood of his story. Barbecued. The blood. Blood of his story. Abused. The blood. Blood of his story. Ballistic. The blood. Blood of his story. Abnegated. The blood. Blood of his story.… Continue reading Red Whine
John Lennon would have been seventy-seven today.
I fell in love with Lennon in the eighth grade. Not a romantic love, but an admiration. His music has helped shape me, my philosophy, and my experiences. They sometimes just spark strong emotion or send my soul sailing. Today is John Lennon’s 76th birthday, and I am mildly/healthily obsessed with him, so this is my second post today about him. Ha. These are the top sixteen songs of his solo music career, in my opinion. And, it is complete links to the songs on YouTube(which I do not own). Hope these songs take you down memory lane, give you inspiration, are simply added to your list to listen to/try, or make you feel like you’re floating on a cloud like me. Haha.
1. “Everybody’s talking about revolution, evolution, masturbation, flagellation,…”
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
Obviously this is on the list. It is my favorite, and it is even…
View original post 1,489 more words
Happy birthday, John Lennon!
Today is John Lennon’s 76th birthday, and I am mildly/healthily obsessed with him, so my post today is about him. Ha. These are the ten best quotes by him, obviously in my opinion, and I did not include the cliche Imagine quote. Haha. Here’s the ten best quotes complete with pictures (which I do not own).Hope you find these inspiring, heartwarming, relatable, or some other positive emotion:
1. “Either I’m a genius or I’m mad, which is it? ‘No,’ I said, ‘I can’t be mad, because nobody’s put me away; therefore, I’m a genius.’ Genius is a form of madness and we’re all that way. But I used to be a bit coy about it, like me guitar playing. If there’s a thing such as genius, which is just what? What the fuck is it? I am one. And if there isn’t, I don’t care.” (This one is my absolute…
View original post 289 more words
The Alien in the Alley She is hairy and Abstract and lives on the walls with wings dipped in black. She’s not a cliché fly. She is a jaw-dropping butterfly. A goddamn mighty butterfly. With vivid, godly wings that are lengthy like sophisticated words. She, a spellbinding creature, surrounded by bile… Continue reading The Alien in the Alley
Amethyst; that was her name, and that was the shade of her strut. She’d float down the sidewalk like an apparition, in high-heels sharp like the corners of counters, and force the smell of manually-mashed passionfruit to mingle with the cool air. Click, clack. Click, clack. The heels. Left, right. Left, right. The eyes. She… Continue reading AmethysT
