Tag: words

  • What is pain?

    if pain could write,  it would look like crumpled papers,  tossed in the basket.  if pain could speak, it would tell me that I am no good, with my mother’s tongue.  if pain could cry,  it would leak like a ball point pen,  on white paper.  If pain could see,  It would seek out,  my…

  • Morning Routine

    The blaring sharpness of the alarm sounds Under the grey blue of the morning light  One more minute, I mumble  The chirpy melody continues  With immense speed I dash toward the desk  Eyes filled with sleep  Grab the phone  Quick Swipe Joyous peace and quiet  I tumble back into bed The warmth of the blanket…

  • On the self

    When you become tired, of,  simply,  surface jumping.  Dive deeper,  Be brave.  Look beyond,  the space where the sand kisses the ocean. Dive deeper, reaching for more depth. Deeper still, as phantom manta rays envelop you. Dive deeper, as pitch black night transitions into ghostly glimmers. Dive deeper,  as the air becomes too sparse to…

  • Soft Piano Songs

    There was a time not long ago,Where fingers reach for the moon,Falling short.Hand held out still,Waiting.Deep aches of the heart,Spilling.There lies witness in the stars,As a nightingale,Tumbles,The night sky.Violin strings sing,As tears fall,Illuminating,Moon to moon.Folded eyes bathed in pale light,Glistening wet,Music of the night,Clinching to the pains of the day.Let it go,softly,softly,softly,With the crash of…

  • Shared Space

    Individuals, Yet part of a comic whole, In Praise of Shadows. *In Praise Of Shadows- Junichiro Tanizaki

  • Sleepy Rum

    26. Speakeasy. Speak, Easy. Holding fast to words that are caught inside. No real desire to voice them. Sitting, Waiting for shaken cocktails, made of deep amber liquid, touch of misty lavender. Sleepy Rum. I’m immersed deep in heavy curtains, draped over, metropolis. New York City. I look out, it’s a corner street, Triangular intersection.…

  • On Bodysuits

      On bodysuits and words, last night I thought to myself, shit girl, you stopped writing. why ? because bodysuits. It encased, mon petit cheri, its shape and form, function and flavor, too tight to breathe. Anger with my mind for allowing the passage of time, to create a space that is hard to define.…

  • Brain Tumor

    Her brain mauled by obscene thoughts of violence against herself Defensive little child Everywhere you look you see the strange, the unconscionable, and the harmful. Who is good? You search, gravitating towards the unbound; the ones stretched too thin, the taunting monsters hungry… for a tension-ed mind to fondle. You see eyes everywhere, You search…

  • The Soulless

    Death, Death She whispers. Her eyes wide open, Come closer. Oozing liquid Amber, Devil’s gold. Plump, Blood red lips. Sweet little pink tongue, Seduction. Graze her Porcelain neck lovingly, with your lips. Warmth, under Smooth pearly white flesh. Look closer. Mr. maggot says, hello. Death,death She screams. Her insides are growing worms, Churning, Disease and…

  • Ravel

              There is madness, madness, in my blood. The sun is astoundingly brilliant, It’s warmth all encompassing, My skin is lit on fire, Simmering, like millions of tiny diamond particles, and the sky, the sky, Blue like a robin’s egg. I look to the world and see endless possibilities, My vision, My work, so true, so pure, Omnipotent.…