O, For A Muse Of FireShe liked to watch him play the violin. She wasn't sure why - but she could not truthfully imagine anything more pleasurable than crouching down near to where he stood in all his rag-festooned glory, the ground at his feet littered with old newspaper and discarded plastic cups - and just listening , her bright eyes fixed on the long, crooked nose bent toward his instrument and the lengthy shadow he cast, set to trembling by the flickering light of passing subway cars.O, For A Muse Of Fire8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
It gave her a curious sense of ownership, and of pride, to know that she alone, out of all the people who had ever heard this music, understood the melodies that this man wove like tapestries of light over the deafened ears of men and women who rushed past day in and day out. She, alone, knew that to fling coins into the battered violin case sitting open beside him with that careless flick of the benevolent, alm-giving wrist would be as much of an insult to him as a slap in the face - perhaps moreso.
He was not an old man
a city in rhythm and jazz -..an entire city in tearsa city in rhythm and jazz -..8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
singing jazz and rhythm
and jazz and the blues,
singing rhythm & jazz & the blues.
an entire city in tears
with hands held
twisting the wind into whirlwinds of sound
& a red handkerchief flicking on the wind,
whipping & lifting the sound of the wind
& the necks of the crying
in one motion, one
waving, swaying, lilting, loving manyperson,
singing rhythm & jazz & the blues.
an entire city in tears
craning from windows & weeping,
sweeping the dust dragged past the parks
with their eyes.
with their eyes: dust-dragged
past the parks with woodchips & leaves.
with their eyes: worshipping
the centre of a congregation of walking widows
When Your Heart Stops Beating When Your Heart Stops BeatingWhen Your Heart Stops Beating8 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
My first thought is that she pronounced his last name wrong.
My second is that she's lying.
When you think of a person, a tiny file of memory opens in your brain, containing everything you know about them. All the good memories you've made, stupid jokes that have been laughed at, every tear that you may have shed think
Bird on the WireLately when I talk to my parents on the phoneBird on the Wire8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my mom thinks the hummingbird in my voice
is pecking at her, so she hangs up the line.
I listen until I hear the dial tone on my side
and thats when the hummingbird flies away,
back to the treebranch left of my shoulder.
Then, my throat is a garbled empty nest
and thats when the whole laughing-crying
business starts in.
My one self sobbing shudders of tears.
My other self chickadee-fucking-cackling
at how stupid, how incredibly infantile.
After a while, my body gets tired of all of this
and I fall asleep, hands like talons interlocked
and tucked between my knees. Folded petal-like.
Then the bees come, and the hummingbird returns,
and I dream I am better.
we'll all burni must be the devils seedwe'll all burn4 years ago in Emotional More Like This
for loving someone you can't
take a chance to understand
i sure deserve to burn
for things I never chose
for things no one planned
insolence is a newest trend
lets hate for the hell of it
come 'on. It makes perfect sense
let's hate for some stupid reason
or hide behind our faith
we'll build up our picket fence
to block out what we fail
to grow up and comprehend
And someday we'll die happy
to know we were wrong in the end
EdieEdie5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her skin of powdered rice paper
the scent of rotting orchids,
a drug-induced Noh dancer with
slow-writhing limbs akimbo-
silver-gilded girl of the moment
at the factory that turned out
Monroe silk screens, and porn
to the drone of a refrigerator,
from asylum to the Big Apple,
the apple of her father's eye
and of his desires, she'd sleep
among the gay lovers, pretty boys
with erotic names of exotic birds,
knowing she was safe for a while
as they quarreled amongst themselves-
who'd bring her chocolate shakes,
and chauffeur their princess
to her doctor's for injections
(she was too much a lady to do it herself)
until her fingertips became match-heads
setting fire to hotel rooms,
flailing from inside a closet
while bellboys stole her furs-
face of a comatose junkie drawing deep
on filter-less cigarettes
(she wasn't afraid). And yet, what deeds
have you, Edith, what deeds?
But wasn't she fabulous! remembering
back when she and Suky spent trips
screaming from an open convertible
nothing left to loveyou should have left me as that broken heap on the floor;nothing left to love5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a hap hazardous waste of soulless blood and bones.
with skin too imperfect to touch or admire;
but you wanted more than that...
you wanted to kill me without being a murderer;
to prevent me from ever being another's divine tragedy.
i could have at least been that, if anyone were to ever love me;
if there were ever someone that masochistic.
but you wanted more that that...
so you left me without any heart to hold,
though the layers of my deteriorating flesh.
you left me with nothing to love.
A Girlfriend or a WifeJoin me, esteemed sonA Girlfriend or a Wife7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Youngest born, our last hope
Join me at the table
Feast on possibility
Find me a nice girl
A white, Christian girl
A selfless girl
To bear me sons
Find a girl
Soulless, obedient, dull
Someone to pour my love over
Like a baptismal
Find me a girlfriend or a wife
But I didn't follow convention, did I?
Look, Ma! Look, Pa!
Look what America's done to your kid!
I follow my cock wherever it leads me
The path to pussy isn't paved
And I hate dirt roads
I won't have a girlfriend or a wife
My foolish son
My love, my pride
My promise of heaven
My mounds of glittering coins
I lay it all at your feet
When you bring me a girlfriend or a wife
Our other children
Lost by their own accord
They are aimless, soulless
Adrift at sea
Let them be weak!
You are smart
Strong and brave
Our only pride
Do not deny us this!
We have given you much
And have little time left
All we ask of you is to deny, deny deny
Ignore your own desires
To alight ours
To bring us a girlfriend or a wife!
Now I can
Can You ImagineCan you imagine:Can You Imagine5 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Being a little girl,
Watching all the other girls
Talk about the boys
And all you wanted to do,
Was play a game with the boys,
Not talk about how cute they were.
Can you imagine:
Not understanding why
The other kids said you were strange
Called you names,
Said you should just go
And be a boy,
'Cause you weren't any girl.
Can you imagine:
Sleeping over with a friend,
But once they left the next day,
You wondered why you felt empty inside,
Why you wish they'd just stay.
Can you imagine:
Just hitting puberty
And not having many friends.
You just didn't fit in,
With everybody else.
Sometimes, all you wanted to do,
Was hide in your room and cry.
Can you imagine:
Slowly coming to terms,
With "what" you might really be.
You don't like boys,
The church says that makes you a sinner,
And you're going to hell,
No matter what else you do.
Can you imagine:
Finally finding another girl,
Who can help you,
Understand you, love you,
The way you always wanted to.
So what, I'm humanSo what if I'm a dyke?So what, I'm human4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
So what if I'm gay?
So what if I'm bi?
So what if I'm pans?
So what if I'm trans?
So what if I'm a tomboy?
So what if I'm flamboyant?
So what if I'm different?
People aren't all alike,
Not everyone is born straight
We don't all get to choose what things we are
It's not the same as being scene,
Gender and orientation aren't choices
It's just a way of life,
who we are
Ridiculed for things we didn't choose
In the end we are people
Not just animals, we are not creatures
I wouldn't call us monsters
Sinners isn't even accurate
Just call us
Honor Your FallenOne for the man who answered the call.Honor Your Fallen2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
One for the brother taken too soon.
One for the man who gave his all.
One for hearts made heavy and sad.
One for families torn apart
One for a boy now without his dad.
One for the endless tears,
One for the new struggles.
One for so many lost years.
One for the mother's only son,
One for the memories;
One more, one more until this war is won.
One for the brother coming home under his Nation's flag,
One for the ultimate sacrifice,
One for the man in the body bag.
One for the love of the fight,
One for family born not of blood.
One for that final flight.
One for the free.
One for you
Until it's just me.
A final salute for those who no longer hurt,
For the boys who paid the ultimate price;
Twenty one guns for my family in the dirt.
The Origin.The Origin.4 years ago in Horror More Like This
November 16, 1995
While at Cinnabar Island on the coast I met a strange Pokemon, it looks like blocks put together to make a backward 'L'. So after observing it I decided to catch it.
After observing this strange creature, I decided to see how it fought in a Pokemon battle. After training It seems it uses water gun a lot and sky attack, so in conclusion I think it's a normal/flying type.
Today it evolved into a Kangaskhan for some odd reason. It looked like normal, but it had an egg in it's pouch.
November 23, 1995
The egg hatched, but the Kangaskhan won't care for it at all. I tried to feed and play with it but it still won't do anything.
November 24, 1995
I've decided to give the infant Pokemon to a trainer in Lavender Town. He said he would take good care of her.
November 30, 1995
House of Good SenseI want crawl insideHouse of Good Sense5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a cleft in your
& live among people
who don't know
under typewritten words
the print mistakes
the white page,
my passion diffused.
In a world of
like the static on
the Hollywood sign,
I could be small
I wouldn't shake
from the lapse
I could be
the future inside
like film screens.
ten years ago.ten years ago iten years ago.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
knew i was still
a romantic because
my dreams were still
filled with white dresses
and golden rings and
now, i know i am
a skeptic because
i am haunted by
and heated passion
and the faces
real, too real.
How Are The Cats?How are the cats? they say to meHow Are The Cats?5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the space where How are the kids? should be
As though compelled to obey social pleasantry
But confounded how to categorise me
When I'm clearly such an anomaly?
Not a mum, not a career girl
What else is there for a woman to be?
So I see them thinking.
Time after time I see people fall
At the how-are-the-kids fence
Like it's the barren elephant in a sterile living room
My supposed heartbreak, a 'fact' that must never be mentioned
A woman my age without children?
Why, it can only mean one thing
Especially when you look at the family history,
They whisper soundlessly, pityingly, thinking I can't hear them
Just because the words aren't spoken aloud.
I observe the delicate verbal tiptoeing
And feel touched and frustrated both at the same time
How I long just to tell them the simple truth:
I don't have kids because I don't want kids.
But I've seen it too many times now:
The surprised look, the puzzled frown
jokesi promise that i will always amuse;jokes5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
proud pieces of promiscuity
and vivacious displays of vulgarity.
surprising fountains of profanity
spouting from the mouths of barely babes,
but i want you to know something.
i am not the laughs under your tongue
i am not the smile upon your lips
i may never be without one of the two
but they do not define who i am.
there are half-baked scars burned, but raw
stretching across my face and they
curve at the right piece of time,
parting for the red sea of dead cells
i'll pretend doesn't exist at all.
just because i'm the funny girl
because my nose is a touch bulbous
my voice a sound raucous
and because i never seem to cry
doesn't mean i don't.
jokes have feelings, too.
if i'm not speaking, maybe there's a reason.
i'm skating on thin ice without blades
a shuffling across frostbitten souls
i'm ready for the lake to break apart
and leave me sinking to the bottom.
i'd tell you that i want to die.
but i've got a better punchline.
dirty musicianthe street lights pukeddirty musician5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
cloak of yellow
and black spit away from cracked-
and it was
as if this man
or had been
to the place
from which he played
probably stolen from
or hell's only
a pawn shop
dollar bills fell
into it's coffin
as if hypnotized
by the guitar strings
in a slow-
sway only found
page 10it's coldpage 105 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and my saliva
to prevent me
from spitting icsicles
out the window;
is in the passenger seat
at the car-
like an alternate-
speaking to me
until we past a man (dead
or just shy
to the side-
by his own
(and she finally
of shopping bags
like the petrified
muscle tissue of aparitions
searching for fame
or a place
in the highest branches
of the naked birches
that only flaunted
SupermoonI sit here, quietly battling my demons over a cup of tea,Supermoon4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you at the other end, receiving my transmissions.
We talk, or I do tonight, because I have things to say, mindless things
like how my hair breaks, the random coldness of spring, what I said to this and that and nobody,
how I have a black hole for a heart.
You listen. You disregard the fluff. You reply at the right moment, every time.
We've danced this one before, after all.
Outside, not far from my window, a guy is shot in the head. He dies.
I take a sip of tea, tell you more about my problems. They fill my mind entirely.
His body lies immobile, more shots are fired, two others are hit. A black car disappears into the night.
I tell you something about how I can't get my relationships to work. This seems important.
They find the car in flames some miles away. The killer ghosts have vanished.
You tell me to sleep. It is a full Moon lunar perigee. None of us are superstitious.
The night is impenetrable, dark, claustrophobic. I reme
Just kiss me in the rainWhile I still believe in love.Just kiss me in the rain5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
punchlines for dummies"you can see babies kickin' to this ultra-sound"punchlines for dummies5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i like your shoesyou stamped your cigarette outi like your shoes4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the bottom of your untied shoe.
(that you deny)
that i'm infiltrating
your already weak immune system.
you say, about your fake disease.
i'm terminal, too, you know.
you walked away for five minutes
(an estimate, you say)
i stole a cigarette of yours,
among other things.
i'll admit i'm a