and so i write as i wait and i wait for that time with each letter each word key formed i discover a new me at times polished most often tarnished but i wait quietly…
at the bench i think i’m sitting watching absent mindedly soaking in the flair and magic of the scene jesters and contortionists control the court in front of me cages of allegory truths and fantasies but lest we forget the straight up lies of the institutional do gooders is this it voice of reason hushed up forever when we beg with Coke and Starbucks paper cups where do the coins truly go when we need help and guidance in completely being our scared self why must we worship your flesh and bone pastor and why is it that only your bumper sticker matters i can think too and feel and love i understand that new deals of any color my Mother will not save unless we’re willing to streamline and electrify our own internal ways honoring self and brother truly from the heart giving to Her salvation and letting go the appropriation of who’s got the only righteous thoughts
we listen to agent orange when were pissed leave us alone don’t come in to the room our eyes are bloodshot with rage and shrooms it comes like a wave of lava and we thrash the place cut our arms on broken bottles there they are behind in the closet leave us alone if you know what’s good for you why do you tell us what to do when you back stab your neighbors and talk about fools we demand to go back to mutti’s we don’t give a fuck what your judge says hey asshole we’re just a kid not your self-righteous toilet paper wad to wipe your evil ass with we listen to agent orange when were pissed and the neighbor called the fire department cus the front windows shattered on account of the sonic geetar’ licks and surfer grooves oh we forgot to mention the baseball bat from out in the patio and your girlfriend’s mirrors are shattered into as many bits as apologies you owe to me fuck yeah we’re still pissed and we will always scream as long as you won’t hear me
Hands are servants of the mind. The mind commands and the hands obey, because the mind by itself can do nothing in the world. It sits in its ivory tower and schemes but cannot create or destroy without its trusted servants.
He held the world in his hands, spinning the globe, eyeing the curve of a country before placing the globe back on his desk. A whole world out there and he was stuck here teaching Latin to ignorant brats who had no interest in the subject. He sighed, glanced at his watch and exited his study to stroll down to the first form classroom.
“Higgins why is this page full of ink blots. It’s just not acceptable. You will take…
1. The award logo/image should be on your blog. 2. Rules should be listed 3. Be thankful to the one who nominated you and do add the link to their blog 4. Answer five questions asked by the person nominating you 5. Tell your readers three things about yourself 6. Notify the nominees on through comments on their blog 7. Ask five questions, of your choice, to your nominees. One of which should be funny or weird. 8. Share a link to your best post
q an a for Kritika
1. Has your blog transformed your life?
i think that it has i get to share some thoughts with folks who might send me advice or who just get it i love to read work that speaks to me as well and know that i’m not alone even if it’s just cyber space
2. What are your hobbies? Is blogging one of them?
i guess blogging is a hobbie but really its more therapeutic i like to read and just let my mind wander its difficult and exhausting some days
3. Are you attracted towards balloons still?
balloons scare me seriously i will hyper ventilate and pass out PTSD bad
4. Writing on blog, do you take it as an obligation?
not at all i love writing i need it in my life
5. Have you ever written a funny post on blog?
i have some funny pieces i think like the price of peanut butter and charm school drop out i’m really funny and witty in person if i have to write something down and think it through it doesn’t work for me i think
because you were my echo
for all eternity you’ve held me
mid air gagged and bound
i clung and you squeezed
an inky black forbidden sickness
blessed only by masters apostates all
i cut my skin for you
i lied and forked my tongue for you
i crawled in shame only for you
but you still held me held me there
like a cave around the diamond
you and i knew each other for a thousand years
my beloved my tempting mistress
i your little nothing lower than waste
your eyes green emeralds
and cheeks of porcelain gold
you smiled into my darkened mirror
and willingly i shred my soul
if only for a taste of you
a taste of a devilish divine kiss
let me crawl raw belly on crystal you nails
caress my blood as a farewell
like sand in the Sahara let me slip through…
Shout out to mbrazfieldm at Words Less Spoken for giving me the following idea from her blog https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/156180627/posts/1711 She wrote in part of an angel named Hortance, a Mae West look alike, who spoke with a Cockney accent.
I weren’t much of a looker. Me face being a bit pinched, dark circles under me eyes and I ‘ad this ‘orrible wart on me chin. But I ‘ad a generous ‘eart. I used to give to the poorest of the poor. Blokes who needed me but couldn’t afford the ready.
They’d say “Liza, I got an urgent need, but me ship ain’t come in yet. ‘Ow about yer take care of me and I’ll say a prayer fer yer. I’ll put in a word for yer to that geezer up there. Tell ‘im of your kind ‘eart.”
I’d say ” ‘Ow can a girl with a kind ‘eart refuse yer, when…
words less spoken 