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first cutwild-eyed night sweat clings to your palms salt anchors sweet I am unquenchedfirst cut
barefoot I, you barehanded tasting foreign fierce tongues we find rhythm in fluency
take up your punch, your hammer, your file steady steady cut
deeper
cut
by ~Trin14
little accidents I meantcatch me pierce me that photo black and whitelittle accidents I meant
what's in your hand I wonder scavenge for signs of remembers me maybe sometime
so loud there was so much laughter door kept opening I shivered were they blue your eyes do I recall or grey I guess they could have been rough hands working hands hauling stone you told me sleeve so soft I couldn't keep my hands I tried to words words words came and wine too or you had beer I think you did or maybe scotch
cramped and close your dog there he's sweet but not so small you know desk here sofa there skis bike bed pushed up against the wall I lik
by ~Trin14
pluto demotedbanished from the system I think I have no fingers composed of dirt and ice I ledge-sit cold brick and watch my frosted breath rumbletrains beneath my feet homeless Jerry searches trashcans looks my way but I have nothing it's not plastic night upstairs your mumbled breathing is the second sound to hissing pipes that choke you four floors below I smell the plaster peeling peeling silently above your head arms wrapped tight around I stare across the street at steamy window and scent of moo shu and cracked-corner sign Eat Herepluto demoted
lead-headed blue-lipped big-
by ~Trin14
i don't speak french...i don’t speak french but i love you foreveri don't speak french...
* *
arm foot curve arch knee splintered into mummies in box of light she is a spider spinning flailing grasping his purple rage calloused hand nails torn puppetmaster guiding pushing tendons taut taught to bend resist repeat his feet an anchor thighs a stair spine a bed on which to rest she climbs and lies (and lies) beneath the glare above the bone face pressed to his shorn skull arms they are all dangling arms slender bulging tang
by ~Trin14
Favourites
Autumn is a CrucifixionSince when, she wonders, have we been a study of winter, cracking like branches under ice, wrapped in sheets of white, showing clearly all the little bootmarks that try so hard to pound us into mud?Autumn is a Crucifixion
Since autmun, I say, when everything turned beautiful, gold, falling from the sky, floating on breezes to snag lifelessly against the barbed-wire in a perfectly patchworked dead and dying field prepared to smother itself for months, buried all the while, and rise again. Autumn is a crucifixion, I tell her, and we who live in winter are the nails.
by ~staxu
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- Current Residence: "I live in New York, New York...the city that never shuts up..." - ani d.
- Interests: music...books...art...film...food...people...words...
- Favourite movie: The Matrix... The Beat My Heart Skipped... Before Night Falls
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- Favourite genre of music: neo-folk... electronica... blues... anything acoustic
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Carpe diem
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Carpe diem
Welcome.
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I am my own God. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.
and welcome...
i hope you will enjoy this nice place...
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ॐ मणि पद्मे हूँ, oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ
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