Newest
Shiftingthe day ended the way it began snow fell in a lazy swarm and i remembered how in the summer you always smelled like suntan lotion and soap i think i understood this all at one point those words searching like fingers you said you loved me for the first time in a hotel room on the bay the rain whispered frantically as you kissed me i wasn't ready i was never readyShifting
by ~Andwah
fall poem written in a car(i watched the world spin by through cloudy, water-spattered glass yellow then brown then grey remembering the clumps of sunflowers growing idle by the freeway)fall poem written in a car
by ~Andwah
beginning of springthere were petals clinging to the bottoms of my shoes crushed, still white and obliviousbeginning of spring
by ~Andwah
Fissuresi remember that you liked plums and everytime we grilled chicken in the front yard you would always barbeque and eat the little heart that came in the package joking saying that you ate it because you had no heart of your own i remember.... (god i felt so small when you were around) i was guided like a fish down the aisle to see you you were unrecognizable, bloated the giant toppled and fat in his coffinFissures
by ~Andwah
Favourites
A Tired Night, Tired Drinkingeyes drug over asphalt as night passes like green signs, white letters - exhausted, bodies ache lay in sleeping bag stars overhang the water lapping reflections the moon, fullA Tired Night, Tired Drinking
there isn't enough whiskey in that well not near enough, standin' on boat dock cursing sea legs, shouting dry land kicking buckets, spitting cigarette smoke
the silence that surrounds seems creeping from the cracks between car doors allowing the sound surround, rolling over hill, and hill mouthing words to songs, dreaming of s
by ~johnfinch
Brushingunder tea high - sky intent, ever so gent - ly - silent we'll keep secrets like pocketed lighters matted hair, tattered skirt whisper and drink - last eye open open top outlook looking for face in blanket pile - hands touching quiet stories, silent night - whispered song - pillow talk cased, kept in stocked feet warm while boxing the box as a pair, leaving the next day forlorn?Brushing
by ~johnfinch
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: US
- Favourite band or musician: The Doors, Rasputina, Depeche Mode, Elliot Smith, The Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Frank Sinatra
- Favourite poet or writer: W.B. Yeats, Neil Gaiman, Sylvia Plath, Billy Collins, Anne Sexton, Carl Sandburg
- Personal Quote: We only begin to live when we conceive life as tragedy.... -- W.B. Yeats
- Tools of the Trade: graph paper
- Email: frankfurter32@hotmail.com
- AIM: theoriginalAndwa
- Yahoo: shadow.ferret
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(Sorry if I already said this in a reply.)
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Well, if it isn't fat stinking billygoat Billyboy in poison. How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly, thou.
and no you didn't send me that in a reply. so you're fine
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"Two wrongs don't make a right, but three rights make a left!"
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"Two wrongs don't make a right, but three rights make a left!"
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