Ever wake up from a dream you thought was real?

I do...all the time. I wake up and I'm confused. Like I'm supposed to be living in the dream.

Not where I am now.

In the mist, of summer tickets...
leading my feet.
They dive right in,
my precarious nature-
all a-bloom.
before my wistful eyes.

On the edge of the boardwalk,
the sand creeping to invade-
my toes taste the cold.
Of the waking bodies beneath,
the earth that shivers, always awake.

The lighthouse above me,
the shining dimensions.
I wish I could see the directions ( Read more... )

Up late...again. What, you may ask? writing. And I am proud of myself that I am. And not just some evasive poem. A story. A love story. Yes, I know, cliché. What isn't a cliché anyways? I found a way to weave in one of my fandoms, too. Something I have been wanting to do for so long. I have been working on it since about a month, off by a couple of ( Read more... )

Haiti, never free,
n’aie pas peur de sonner l’alarme.
Tes enfants sont partis,
in those days their blood was still warm.

(Haiti, never free, don’t be scared to ring the bell
Your kids are gone
In those days their blood was still warm)

List seven songs you are into right now, no matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your LiveJournal along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to.

01.  Soul Meets Body - Death Cab For ( Read more... )

"The less said the better."

-Jane Austen

battre sa coulpe.

Stickily sweet of sickness,
are my bedclothes telling?
Once in a while I like to lick
the pages I read,
absorb the words.
All the ink just floats on my tongue.
Is that correct?--
just a listless pose, you stare at me.
And just cease...
disappear like I asked?
yes, yes, yes.

For once, it was done as I pleased.
The edges of my comforter was ( Read more... )

haiku

tear of countenance;
what behold but a bitter,
single ample pride.

when my fingers thread through this--
uneven, even when I squint.
And water is always the wrong color,
on the other side.
Empty is what comes to mind,
one, two, three clouds in the sky.

What if, only by chance, did I capture one.
not a question that stares at me, but
an answer that smiles at me.

another refusal, you say.
I'm helpless in any way of ( Read more... )

Living in a Lighthouse

Global rays through my lithe house,
an emergence of ships--
my sight a horrible tale.
Shoreside is lovely in fall,
winter, summer, and spring
...what's it to me?

Locked with key in me,
staircase is rotted like my teeth.
Would my prince chraming save...
with my empty holes of eyes--
would I see, my eyes return?

I doubt my running feet ( Read more... )