for her fashion |
I saw the inside of her Gucci bag once.
Contents: hate/rage
cocaine, hundred dollar, dollar bills ya'll
it contained all the things explainable to those invited within the fashionable threaded trenche... Posted by on Tue, 02 Nov 2010 16:13:00 GMT |
Jasmin's Garden |
Jasmins Gardenshe said forever in cold stone inktook twice to blinkdrowned in the receptors of her boredomshoe printsleave the worst breakup painstulips and pasture's make up the differencewatercolour... Posted by on Sun, 12 Apr 2009 22:28:00 GMT |
growing up |
" growing up"just holding onto a thought of youjust holding onto a thought of youjust can't stay awayi'm still missing youwe've played it through it seemsdaydreaming to the point where the heart start... Posted by on Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:33:00 GMT |
summer ends |
one more chance to recalm my salvationmy editor is unlisted. finding my way home through poetry form or such. the story form continues, through an artificial high. i wrote so many stories i'm begining... Posted by on Thu, 01 May 2008 04:00:00 GMT |
a question in return |
" A Question in Return"It's the way she asked those question's" What are you thinking, what did you think about today?"How deep I dug for bravery and conviction to answer her back but perhaps maybe, j... Posted by on Sat, 26 Apr 2008 02:08:00 GMT |
"politikks, conflikks and relegion" |
in the last second of time, time holds still
freeze, frozen rhyme lines take you through time portals
pre-sentence the whole page with sick vocals
illusions are optical as we struggle to... Posted by on Thu, 28 Feb 2008 00:08:00 GMT |
"stolen perfect" |
the morning sun rose, poked and crept through the edge of the horizonlay there dying not to accept the quiet silencecursing at the floorboards on my way to the window blindssaw the stars close in the... Posted by on Wed, 23 Jan 2008 17:18:00 GMT |
her story |
stuck my fingers between the lines of your wet lips
placed it near the side margins, feeling the harden of this word trip
felt you inhale with a soft lick, bit down gently on the pen with your teeth f... Posted by on Mon, 10 Dec 2007 12:32:00 GMT |
up before the sun comes up |
i watched her lay there, framed amongst the footprints of her beauty
the way those running watercolors are no accident, washed upon her naked frail skin
golden hues and amber ridden off sets, mustard ... Posted by on Fri, 02 Nov 2007 22:16:00 GMT |
Where words are more than meanings |
"Buried Suitcases"
Broken shards from broken glassof broken memories.Shattered emotions scatter battered dreams,Gather the messages left after and hammerthem tastefully to the falling trees. Exhausted... Posted by on Fri, 02 Nov 2007 16:12:00 GMT |