January 2009
36 posts
1 tag
Benediction.
Forgive my love of all things natural and true, the rich black bark singing leaves praise of light, feeding air and apples, crisp and fragrant, veiled mornings—varied hues. Forgive my innocence, my playful acts in communion with one thing that always remains true to this regenerative pearl of a heart—you, maker of magic and beauty beyond that which the refinery tyrants seek to part me...
1 tag
The Guillotine Ones.
Hadassah spoke his words to attempt dialogue—she hadn’t stolen. Sarah longed for collaboration, communion with one mind in proximity, which functioned on levels similar to her own. These weren’t the days for young women to initiate such indiscretions. They’d parted their lips. Ruin blew in soft murmurs and now they’d pay.
Typecast:
Dark, deep set, I’s. Blank page: Walls, enjamb a gape_______for h-e-[r]-a-r-t.
Words rapped: Wind up, shiny toy cars, tin men, foiled promises make Soledad the whore--she is, not.
Soledad rathers: Gaps. Space’s calling to be built upon; somebody to grow with. Out selling herself for some dark, matterin’ deep set eyes.
1 tag
Bow-Peep
Flat silver rooftops of a sprawling grade school glazed in chilled ice waters shimmer like dolphins smooth arched flesh through frozen air in deafening dazzling sheen of drippy pools of light upon light. Stray cats in the field become the sheep of her meadows. The valley feels like home again.
Love, at Last Sight.
Heaven help her. She’d...
Apr 7, 2008 1:54 PM
fcuk editing and you may begin to say things you never meant said…something like one cup of coffee with two spooned fools of sugar. no breakfast, no kiss. round trip to the circus to see one dead clown, rigmortis and all bent into funny clown shapes—flash fiction photography: i got to dance with the devil on the pentagram floor, under the tented big top or was it the thirteenth floor?...
1 tag
IV. Posterities Sake.
The four posters of her bed: 2 fiber experiments, 1 Shakira, 1 gold geometric Davidian star—received as payment. Her bed was borrowed, but not blue, and simple for resting sleepyheads. The glamourlove virtues inherent in Salacia would never be shaken, truths to being; her best gifts to her future self and kin.
1 tag
III. Door’s Down.
Richard lay in blissful slumber, dreaming: SegaGenesisAtariAvocado dreams of washing machines, perfectly matched dryers, fridge, stove, light fixture, shagged carpet… Muppet Babies. Three doors down, Janet plays: Twister with friends, drinking silly drinks named the way one plays crossed words puzzled, life-drunk and loving, every bitter, sweet, licorice, minute.
II. Of Hearts, in the Dark.
Soberietyspeaks: My Deleted, don‘t bother calling. }}This scene is too big -- for us… and this.{{
Alcoholicsmeet: well into the night.
Sobrietyslurs: I hate you.
That’s when he’d kiss her -- but not in the way you’re thinking. He kissed her soft... then slow, and deep.
She really hated him for it.
1 tag
I. Miss San Diego.
Somewhere, the lines were crossed: grave miscommunications from headquarters. Charging the city streets, passersby and car radios now suspect to hidden agendas. Shopkeepers weren’t to be trusted—assumed lookouts for the mob’s vigilant eye. Left to her devices, Carmen had drawn a murder mystery that would baffle Nancy Drew, herself.
lullaby
There is a merman who lives in the...
i will swim.
kari-shma: Modest Mouse - Float On
All this for you, he said…
Picking up and dusting off… With eyes fixed on the horizon… Choosing hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict, putting an end to petty differences — we will not apologize for our way of life… We’ll rise with ideals, which light the world, conduct business in light of day… No longer using energy in ways which strengthen adversaries… We’ll harness the sun, winds and soil.
Greatness...
Me. Myself & I.
The wind stung in wisped hairs and slashed clouds across her face. The taut electric wire connecting the towers offered little security; it would be home for the time. Reaching her end, she faced the smooth polished Stonewall. When she spoke into her reflection, words smashed with the force of the breeze carrying birds planes and debris, far below.
Don’t do anything rash, she promised herself.
1 tag
Sally’s licks
Sally reflected upon the gold dusted stripes, earned last time they’d hit town. Her scars were healing. She’d learned to carry her matchbook mending kit; brimming warm turquoise and tangerine—threads, she envisioned would complement cool alloy sutures. Sally’d be seeing Edward tonight, eloquent words; clumsy hands—which were blades.
bodywhispers:michellardi: A Sunday Smile - Beirut
1 tag
arie would find heart again
Neptune came in waves of kind calm interspersed with arctic jetty lined undercurrent. They’d misread each others needs, at times. Arie’d never felt his hands—too focused on her new streamlined tail. But the hard knocks of his opalescent corals sent finger tipped ghost pains of loss, shivering palm through hole to spinal column.
1 tag
Victoria's Secret.
Due to the winds chill factor, she’d been putting-off her nightly ride. Resuming past the immaculate storefront, she caught Neiman at his days end worst—locking up. So she rode on without cordial salutation as a warm ground-blooming prisma of glass bonsai forest display, diverted her nervous attention. This was not to be the first time they would showcase a similar display… the sister piece...
2 tags
straight-jack(et)ed, or so they say: we should be.
Itching to put us away into our tiny little boxes, helping us die of natural causes for insanely/critical beliefs in YHWH as well as Buddha, Darwin… … freedom and Christ. Censoring through our vibrant sketch-pads, desecrating fireside art forms—using all. Literature and History fueled by eternal flame in hushed columns of deranged spinal and maimed mammal matter upholding the perpetually...
1 tag
desire in constellation
Morganalaysinrepose: I’m not sure what you--desire.
Weweremarriedoncearewestill: Be careful.
Morganalaysinrepose: There’s trust you give and respect we mutually require, but our temperament keeps this distance--distance of a friend: enabling detachment when we grow tired. I couldn’t share a home like this.
Weweremarriedoncewhatdoesitmean: Love you.
Morganalaysinrepose: See you later. Love you, too.
Weweremarriedonce: I know.
2 tags
Luna’s Uprising.
Flying arcrescent in raged river magmic crimson and bright, around Bald Mountain. I spy her. Whispering duskily, subtly spotted diagonal yawning platinum dawn—drawn from Blackhearts coal glacier, against the raven’s variegated black. Nightrider’s pressing her. Rising faster as arc-yaw vaporizes space—time, continually revealing her prematurely across panoramic control panels. One...
Mom, you know I can have bad dreams while I’m...
Well, there are snakes, lots of them, sliding around one giant one. one giant snake? Yep, the one that wont go into the fire. which fire? The Fire — not until he’s not sticky anymore. sticky? Yes, from the hive. hive? He likes to stare into hives until the bees are dead.
Then he slides inside to eat them.
2 tags
Each time He knocks; She grants access.
They hug, perhaps kiss and She starts a kettle. He sits at her laptop, plugs in his zip-drive and proceeds to scour her files. She gets mad. This is one variation of their exchange for as long as She can remember him—clutching her car CD case as She finally dropped him off—media folder and guitar held for collateral against their child. Each time she left drained to almost-nothing, to...
1 tag
A Californian Fall.
The flaming bushes blood-drenched frost-fired tips cascade multi-story, as though pouring from the crimson open mouth arch of molten sun—its blood-orange dripping ambered-golden breadth upon the horizon. Limpidly stained and flailing fire shards of glistening soggy glass testaments gripped tight by the sooty spider-legged tentacling branches of winter; beside the budding ultramarine glass...
1 tag
Take me out to…
sea, people, young & light: Driving past your shopper cart stacked high--perfect rows of canned peach vs. apples--sauced. Tossing PB&Jellied sandwiches you made me.
Angel’s babytee & cutoffs seated: 1st row, Dodger’s Stadium, catcher of hand-
tossed & paper-bagged warm: salty peanuts, hardball--this game.
Smiling her love toward: the organ, players--play.
1 tag
There is a light that never goes out.
Casting shadow-man looming long from trees of right perimetric perspectives; this is where it’s beguine—in these shadows taking the root of retinal attachment to soul-seated mind. Overcoming right—to core, turning her; soft paling light to become hardour… environing her winds push tide’s pulling her limbs by the senses relative to compass. This is the dance, of hot light, guiding the...
1 tag
San Lorenzo
She remembers Lionel this way: seated, tense back pressed up against hers; one mind — realizing comfort and warmth in physical realities intrenching their solitary wall. Their two single rooms. Mated soulsong’s entwined; filling space — bodies expanding beyond catechism in physical barricades. Toe-to-toe they laid; mated insoles, in time.
1 tag
ride the snake
She was given first pick of standing room to straddle his sleek limed-green illuminations. Her nerve rattling his click-click-clicking spiral vertebrate anticipations of lights and valley fusing around the sound of wind-blown hollows. Happy New Year the Riddler’s Revenge wails her screeches and fits of laughter.