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S' quite sump'in', ain' it? Some things can't be expressed in words. Some things can't be expressed in pictures. When you start thinking about string theory in the quantum mechanics of heartfelt chemistry, your breath leaves an unmistakably clear message before it dissipates disappears disintegrates. Blurred lines within welled-up tears and intertwined roots of a vine of sweet berries encircle us and smother us as we lie intoxicated by two gaping holes and air-conditioning. The shimmering of stained gold over the theoretical heart of the matter sheds light on Change; the metal makes her more real than she ever was before. You embrace Change, tracing her with your fingerS' quite sump'in', ain' it? by ~artisand
Piano-playing seafood "I am going to get a tan!" I say,Piano-playing seafood by ~artisand
For I had prayed for a hot, sunny day.
I packed some sandwiches and a peach
And I was all set to go to the beach.
You looked bemused and ruffled my hair,
Saying, "You're going to be so sunburnt, I swear!"
You're better off going out wearing a burka
Or staying at home practicing your Rondo alla Turca."
Annoyed at you for belittling me
But even more determined to go because of this mockery,
I say, "Oh yeah? Just you wait and see,
I'm going tanning without my sunscreen!"
You rolled your eyes and heaved a sigh.
"Alright then. Have fun, see you later. Goodbye."
Gleefully, I skipped out the door,
Lea
For Veronica To my dearest baby sister,For Veronica by ~artisand
I want you to know
That I will always be here
If you've nowhere else to go.
I pray that you'll remember:
You are God's precious daughter,
That He loves you forever
And He will never let you falter.
He will keep you safe--
No harm will befall you
In His warm embrace--
He will see you through.
So be strong, little lamb,
And do not fear,
For God is the great I Am
And He is always near.
poetry, again Spoiler alert: this is not poetry.poetry, again by ~ChloroformBoy
Print 15 copies. You just killed a tree.
Put this in mass-produced magazines.
Slaughter a forest – arboreal genocide.
This is not poetry;
this is lexical vandalism; this
is getting away with murder.
Fire your editor & set
fire to your dictionary.
This sentence is a Death sentence,
but death shouldn't be uppercase.
Capital punishment: life fragment (incomplet)
Shit, I don't think I executed that properly.
Correct the syntax & execute it again.
This time: sharpen the guillotine.
Type a noose around this poem
& hang it
on your fridge like gallows,
smothered by two magnets.
Con
Instinct Winter will deceive meInstinct by *TalkativeMute
but society won't believe me
it's the forest that conceived me
but the cold that will retrieve me
great sages have taught me
only pain their words have brought me
a fool this world has made me
time itself will fade me
warriors, they will take me
a hunter they will make me
but a killer, don't mistake me
my own bones, they will break me
but the rain will reunite me
seasons passing. i caught you tiptoeing through my fogged up mind in the early hours of thisseasons passing. by =ohsparrowsong
morning and i wondered why i didn't feel you in the depths of my heart
stinging like pin prick, and how come it was still light even though you
always cause the rain to leak down my windows. you were lighter somehow,
with summer kissing your skin rather than the gray winter that usually
hung so heavily from your far too boney anatomy, and your mouth had
re learned to fight gravity and stand upright once more.
which made me fight gravity again as well.
i'd forgotten that your eyes were the most spectacular shade of sunshine with
greens and blues all swi
Sta.sh
