Newest
Coffee at noonby ~Y43
The pauperThe city wakes before the sun doesThe pauper
and struggles beneath burdens of smoke and fog
to rise and greet morning's icy embrace.
Her children are late (as they always are) squeezing horns, bellowing insults with brows entangled
in a frenzied need to recover the time they lost
some years ago.
But between their fury and discontent no-one stops to notice the old man
stooped low over the frozen pavement with head bowed
as if in solemn prayer.
He is there every morning
before the chattering students and the rumble of weary engines
to kneel before t
by ~Y43
This is our danceThere's something unfathomableThis is our dance
about the way you breathe if
beneath soft flesh and bone
the tango between Lungs and
Diaphragm do not hinder still
my hearing of your every heartbeat
And how odd it is that even now
when I can no longer taste
the cinnamon on your lips
nor feel the warmth of your exhale
I persist in trying to sync my heart
to beat in time with yours
by ~Y43
CarnivalHidden amongst the colourful patchworkCarnival
squares and fuzzy citrus lights you stand,
unmoving –
transfixed.
Drowned out by bawdy jingling tunes and hazy high-pitched laughter you stand,
open-mouthed –
mesmerised.
Coated in that smoky aroma of
burnt cotton candy and dusty rain you stand,
bound,
captivated –
hypnotised by the incandescent night
where nothing is lost
that cannot be won back; emptying pockets and soul to seek fragile acceptance
from this world you worship so.
But pause jus
by ~Y43
Favourites
Anima: XiaoXianby `Wen-M
Conversation with God IYou got mad at me that day I got high on communion wine and tied your rosary around my hips and told you I could talk to God. I could read the lines on his cheeks right through these calloused palms and I loved how his voice rose up tempered and clear like spring, not thin and waspy like you promised. He called me by name and while his coat was too long for me to see his feet, I knew he did not wear shoes and anger was not his road.Conversation with God I
He took my hand to walk and told me there was no shame in falling with grace &nb
by =Scarlettletters
Montserrat SummerGo, then - chase after him in your best dress and those boots that make your feet look like perfect ladies and ask him why he likes his life untidy and if he finds you impossible.Montserrat Summer
Unearth him and ask why he spent last summer in Montserrat, drinking you away on sands that blazed copper at noon, sailing till the ropes ate away his hands and the canvas became a drug.
Tell him you are a mermaid or Venus rising from December and cloud his senses with that perfum
by =Scarlettletters
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: NZ
- Interests: Singing, procrastinating
- Favourite band or musician: Alice Nine
- Favourite genre of music: J-rock, pop
- Favourite poet or writer: George R.R.Martin
- Favourite style of art: Anything but contemporary
- MP3 player of choice: iPod but it broke ; ;
- Wallpaper of choice: Alice Nine >>
- Favourite game: I don't really play games but ... Bleach?
- Personal Quote: "And I was like ... "
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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There are only 2 types of thanks. Money, and gifts. If you really want to say thank you, try saying "Here's my money" and then we'll be good friends.
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There are only 2 types of thanks. Money, and gifts. If you really want to say thank you, try saying "Here's my money" and then we'll be good friends.
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