there ain't nothin in the world so hard so cold that i can't feel your arms around me ( Read more... )

my fingers are splayed against the sun ( Read more... )

Look around and ask...
        Is anything as it seems?
Being in the asking... all wise
and in the answer
supremely stupid

blanking... while your hands are still moving
so you have to ask yourself
        Is anything as it seems?

Going back you can fix all those blanks
words misplaced or dropped completely
letters not in order or just
plain wrong

the mind ( Read more... )

i've been beating my room for weeks and it proffered a book of poetry i wrote in early 1996.  does this mean i won?  i don't think so because the proffering only rendered heartbreak.  there are notebooks and boxes of writing.  i cry with remembered agony ( Read more... )

One weeps with the ache of the heart in remembrance. Oh, I am crying.
One sees in the light, the miracle is soul. Eight days will last forever,
I am laughing, never parted

Thank you -

anon_j_anon

To Anon_j_Anon in response to this anon-j-anon.livejournal.com/50755.html#cutid1the beats pourin out of me ( Read more... )

The last paragraph gives the perspective.  It's the future calling back - Everyone needs to hear this song.

The text formatting is an attempt to convey the music.  I don't know what else to do.  You have to hear it.

Unthought Known

All the thoughts you never see
You are always thinking
Brain is wide, the brain is deep
Oh, are you sinking?

Feel the path of ( Read more... )

i feel like a wounded snake or other generally hated poisonous thing. wounded because it really fucking hurts. hated because i deserve it ( Read more... )

Bugsy died in my arms this morning.  He’d spent the night with me, moving from lying beside me, to lying behind me, to lying on the end table which I’d cleared for him since he’d become enamored of the window air conditioner.  He’d purred.  He’d drank water which was just for him.  He’d suffered.  When he’d wanted to leave the room I had let him. 
( Read more... )