you guessed it. |
sometimes i can't rhyme.most of the time- i'm too tied up trying to untangle the knots tied in my tongue from tryng to tell you-- and i still can't.this is curious enough, considering that curiousity ...
Posted by on Sun, 19 Apr 2009 22:51:00 GMT |
waiting time |
somedays, i pull at minutes as if they are bare threads and it's a desperate attempt to waste my waiting time, because sometimes, i try to rhyme and nothing comes out, besides a gasp of breath that's ...
Posted by on Sun, 08 Feb 2009 19:17:00 GMT |
i’m going to write you the things you’ll never read. |
your breath on the back of my neck &n
bsp; was warm the breeze we felt on summer daysthe cigarette s...
Posted by on Sun, 19 Oct 2008 03:08:00 GMT |
bullets |
press a loaded pistol to closed lipspin the words i've never said to the bottom of my lungsdrag in the morning air through beaten twin barrelskiss the muzzle of the gun as it fires off a scent of your...
Posted by on Mon, 01 Sep 2008 04:24:00 GMT |
this is ancient. |
(a year has gone by and my writing still blows)
every morning a boy made of woodarose to the dayand kissed the sunand assumed the lifeof a boy who's heart was realplay acting comes natural when p...
Posted by on Sat, 07 Jun 2008 08:30:00 GMT |
lightning |
the lightning is spiderwebbing over my eyes.so i walk with arms wide opentrying to catch hold of something stablesomething more tangiblethan raindrops slipping through my fingersbut still my eyes...
Posted by on Thu, 05 Jun 2008 16:04:00 GMT |
thinking of summers past. |
i can't help thinking, as rays of heat beat down onto my skin, about how this cannot be like last time- even though summer sun clings to our skin, like a newly found old friend, tucked away in a box, ...
Posted by on Wed, 04 Jun 2008 11:00:00 GMT |
bunny rabbit. |
today my sister learned of death.through the mortality of a bunny rabbit.as the gun's trigger was pulled into a fist, the rabbit pausedears pinpricking the air for the click of the saftey, that was ne...
Posted by on Thu, 01 May 2008 20:01:00 GMT |
a small collection of forced creativity |
creative writing's 12-poem-poetry-portfolio
this is whats going into it. so far.
(1) all you need to knowis that broken noses healbefore broken hearts.(-)the only thing learnedin eight hours of high s...
Posted by on Wed, 30 Apr 2008 21:19:00 GMT |
the fire escape |
The Fire Escape
Sinking silently into the worn out carpet on the building's stairs, Francais Bartlette's feet pulled her upwards to her apartment. A tattered messenger bag hung over her slim shoulder,...
Posted by on Mon, 28 Apr 2008 17:31:00 GMT |
