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Bluh Bluh Whatever
Had it only been a year? A year? Not even--still about twenty-nine days shy of a year. Only about a year? Strange; the time felt like a small eternity in passing, looking back it seems like lifetimes separate this day from that miserable day I'm thinking of. Really, just one little year? You know my grasp of time is not that good, and I am finding ( Read more... ) -
Cinnamon Lithosphere
AND YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE WRITING CRAPPY EMO POETRY ( Read more... ) -
Brain Sterpaderp
I think I've got several ideas that I can roll into one story like some kind of goddamned katamari ball. It will feature a loner asshole named Julian Boscoe (and his twin, Julia); Sasha, a telepath who pretends to be a god; all the failed nerve of the cowardly lion; idiots who come to stupid conclusions and make stupid choices; and most importantly ( Read more... ) -
She knows I'm not inspired if I'm happy
Hazel sits on the hood of my car, wearing a pair of little old sunglasses and a coat that seems altogether inappropriate for a night in the middle of an oppressively humid North Carolina summer. But tonight, the air is strangely cool, and I suspect Hazel might be one of the few people dressed for it. Between her lips I see a candy cigarette ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
I'd like to rage against the lion, against the cheap and floozy demons, against the long-ago loss of dreams and principles and intelligence which you may find drowned in Aristocrat or in whiskey or wine, and I'd like to weep for the injustice I had my hands in, because it happened and I freely chose it.
I'd especially like to write a story about it ( Read more... ) -
Cinnamon Asthenosphere 19 -- The Last Prophecies
The last poems from poetry class. There are a few others I've left out, but I'll have to get a second opinion before I'll decide they're worth posting.
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Thoughts from Veazey Road
The first rule of high functioning
is to know.
know when you’re being
a paranoid delusional hypocrite
and when what you say
sounds ( Read more... ) -
Cinnamon Asthenosphere 18
Okay, so I skipped the booze and anger, and went for sleep deprivation instead. Wrote some poems. Good times.
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Feels like I've fallen into
the armpits of time
and we're deja re-viewing
the same sad conversation
caught months ago
in our very throats
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2010 Pinot Arrabbiato
I've got the finest
cellar full of vitriol
that ( Read more... ) -
Spices to Come
There are two great inspirations for my poetry: booze, and anger. I've got exactly what it takes to tap into both. Expect something soon.
Posted via LiveJournal.app.
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Cinnamon Asthenosphere 17
Some snippets from a few weeks ago.
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I saw a face I knew
In the pollen-crusted
tin can next to mine
reeling down the highway
From a different life
I'd had.
And sharks were hidden
Gently in the folds of
lush green, like
rabbit eggs waiting to strike
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I must remember not to HATE that devil
Though devil it is
Ka-lick, ka-lick devil feet
Walking past ( Read more... ) -
Cinnamon Asthenosphere 16
I need to go to sleep, before I start waxing warm oatmeal nonsense ( Read more... )