Bitches in the club, and i DON'T mean females... |
This was "inspired" if you will, over an incident last night, I'm sure you all know what I'm talkin about....I see you out, cuttin up on the dance floor,Fulla liquor, no doubt, big pimpin "fo sho".U t...
Posted by Notaurean on Sun, 25 Feb 2007 03:18:00 PST |
Reflection Thereinafter |
Reflection ThereinafterThese windows have seen secrets andDreams, feelings unfold like unwashedClothes, wrinkled and forgotten, onThe torn carpet floor. These windowsHave seen only repetition In thing...
Posted by Notaurean on Mon, 18 Dec 2006 06:10:00 PST |
Normal Things |
This is somewhat of a spin-off of "8 Hours Later".Normal Things I.My hands, immersed in the soapy warmth, knew what to do without my saying so. My mind was absent from this chore, sawed from the branc...
Posted by Notaurean on Mon, 18 Dec 2006 05:57:00 PST |
Like a Lab with Alzheimers |
So, the excersize was to make a poem from the heading of a newspaper clipping or some such, from what i recall...Like A Lab with Alzheimer'sOver the past year or so, I've noticeda significant change i...
Posted by Notaurean on Mon, 18 Dec 2006 05:53:00 PST |
Friendship Bread |
We are the same, you and I.Two and yet the same.If we were to be mixed togetherIn a blender, we would be oneSmooth, caramel coloredConsistency.We are one whole, combined.Just as yeast is added to make...
Posted by Notaurean on Mon, 18 Dec 2006 05:47:00 PST |
Ex-Factors |
ok, so this is kinda in the style of "i am woman, hear me roar" type-business, but...it kinda works... The Ex FactorsFactor #1: Just who in the hell do you think you are, lookin like that? I am Woma...
Posted by Notaurean on Mon, 18 Dec 2006 05:45:00 PST |
8 hours later |
this is just a poem i wrote after my grandma violet died. well, i wrote it for a class, but, i changed a few things and thought it wasnt doing any good just sitting in my computer.I finally broke down...
Posted by Notaurean on Wed, 29 Nov 2006 11:34:00 PST |
