the flower market

low dopamine today will walk across the bay of foggy mind to pray while the hummingbirds stand tall on wires and trillions of thoughts across the universe of a this city block protest the inhumanity of no more parking lots to buy their marriage cytasters oh what a pity i once said but not no more our beds are made and reality come what may the dragons have come to play and they play dirty winner take all except prisoners ambush the brides and take their baubles we need them for the revolution of which we run from only to find it here again

Quotable Poe Week One – M. Brazfield

thank you Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen!
check them out y’all they rock!

Kindra M. Austin's avatarHeretics, Lovers, and Madmen

sweet anguish

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…

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A Cockney Angel

Len, this is way beyond cool!!!!! beautiful story love it love it love it thank you so much for sharing ❤

lensdailydiary's avatarlensdiary.ca

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…

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Ryan Mountain

a young girl i was

when i drove to the desert

i took what Allen dropped

when he was young

like i was

the Joshua Trees

imperial yes they were

tall a strong dark green

some with arms bent up at the sky

which by the way Sky did rain on me

a supple velvety soothing rain

i slipped a little higher

the rocks they opened their slate stained eyes

and the he snake slithered from their underneath

the rain she smelled like new born clay

the vitality of her holy droplets

caused the birds and lizards to come alive

in a jubilant resurrection

at which time i had ten hands

but i could still see my cut up shirt

doused in the liquid of the day

me thinks Dylan Thomas and i could have made love

in dream of mercy a girl laughing with the crimson ants

and the ashy grasshoppers orchestrated with their legs

auditory melodious delight

the horizon a throne

golden

filled with blue angels

as i tilted my face toward the west

the Queen Sun released me into sedation

for Earl

Dear God

how are you

it’s me your creation i think

i was walking around the Skid

i felt afraid

i saw people laid out

and i noticed the pigeons

with missing little toes

feathers crushed and greasy

competing for food

i felt as if i was falling

up in a spiral a void

and the world laughed at me

chest beats hard dry mouth

look out i gotta run

and my feet became lead

30 pieces of silver

called anti-anxiety meds

Dear God

in the midst of my panic

an old black man

stood by me

you ok baby

you sho’ don’t belong heah’

then i cried and i sobbed

and i said i’m real sorry

he said is ok baby

lemme’ git you some hep’

the light it swirled

bullying me

but he was my rock

my Psalm eighteen

i too am wise

you’ve made it this far

         at the front step of mystery

i am sweet enter me you are man

    answer my question of why all is all

tell truth at risk of enticing your anger  you know

       i too am wise

deep is the diamond there’s a reason He hid it there

     you are the key to unleashing continued life

but where did it go wrong the seed it falls to nothing

      where did i lose center when did i gain pain

look into me and dare say it is Eve’s fault

           i ask you are man where does omnipotence end

i am the vessel the chalice the grail in code stop chasing your tail

     let us grow together why place your foot on my neck

does it please you to see me ground into the dirt

    my legs are strong my arms hold the children from

      the poisonous suns

i too am wise

     man come into my center at times i too am harlot

         and i become like a god my brother man

  my mind gets pulled into a thousand places

          but i know that what the king wants

               i am your pleasure the reason you exist

enter my warmth the ecstasy of my womb engulf yourself in the holy

     mine are the rainbows the rains and the wars

       mine are the secrets kept between my legs

          fools who thought of taming me

              have not quite made it back

Abe Lincoln blues

I loved the balmy Monday mornings, skipping school and eating candy bars for breakfast. I loved sitting on street corners and watch people beg and drink and carry on. Some would scream and yell at invisible entities. I, a mere ignorant child, would laugh at them.

On some Tuesday mornings I might go to some classes, English and Art. Nineteen eighty six was also a year of self decline and so I would become an internal rager. I’d scream in silence and yell very quietly, almost apologetically and like a mouse. I was my own entity.

It was around the cold season in LA when I met Taino at the Cecil. He was a friend of spare cock Amos. I suppose by today’s social and political standards Taino was a transgender person. A male to female.

There were discussions about the Iran-Contra affair at school. But, I was too high to care. The internal me was asleep in a bigotry of soul, intellect and spirit. Something in me was hurting awful bad and illicit street medication provided a wave of relief like nothing else I could have ever imagined.

My city was filled with anger and deep pockets of despair and poverty. My city was also filled with anger and discontent and profound pockets of despair, pain and prosperity. I quickly deduced that money does not necessarily hurt or help, but it never brought happiness. Not the kind you feel when you hug a puppy or your mom sings to you or your Da stays up with you when you had fever. I’ve always remembered the first time I hugged a puppy. Taino and spare cock did the best they could with the other things I sorely wanted.

During the cold season in 1986 I also began to feel something toward God. It was a cartoon I saw in The LA Times. The Challenger blew up in the heavens and it was televised. It appears that the astronauts had touched His face. I was high and sad and uneasy. Internally, I began to cave into myself, to think too much, to question and to doubt myself. I began to imagine that God felt we were becoming too bold.

On a rare occasion, I was pleased to be challenged by my school principal to write a report on Abraham Lincoln. For years I thought he looked really bitching; all Emo before Emo was a thing.

Grady learned different perspectives of global political history that 1986. I understood that in some ways human nature and our own personal choices would always drive the civilization inside of us before any collective could flourish.

That year, I had my fist brush of psychological testing. My principal felt that I was confused for being of the opinion that the Union wasn’t aiming at freeing the slaves first, per se, but rather in uniting the country. My folks never got wind of the situation and if they did, they probably thought I’d grow out of it.


my way …

i loved the balmy Monday mornings skipping school and eating candy bars for breakfast i loved sitting on street corners and watch people beg and drink and carry on some would scream and yell at invisible entities i a mere ignorant child would laugh at them

on some Tuesday mornings i might go to some classes English and art nineteen eighty six was also a year of self decline and so i would become an internal rager i’d scream in silence and yell very quietly almost apologetically and like a mouse i was my own entity

it was around the cold season in LA when i met Taino at the Cecil he was a friend of spare cock Amos i suppose by today’s social and political standards Taino was a transgender person a male to female

there were discussions about the Iran-Contra affair at school but i was too high to care the internal me was asleep in a bigotry of soul intellect and spirit something in me was hurting awful bad and illicit street medication provided a wave of relief like nothing else i could have ever imagined

my city was filled with anger and deep pockets of despair and poverty my city was also filled with anger and discontent and profound pockets of despair pain and prosperity i quickly deduced that money does not necessarily hurt or help but it never brought happiness not the kind you feel when you hug a puppy or your mom sings to you or your Da stays up with you when you had fever i’ve always remembered the first time i hugged a puppy Taino and spare cock did the best they could with the other things i sorely wanted

during the cold season in 1986 i also began to feel something toward God it was a cartoon i saw in the LA Times the Challenger blew up in the heavens and it was televised it appears that the astronauts had touched His face i was high and sad and uneasy i internally i began to cave into myself to think too much to question and to doubt myself i began to imagine that God felt we were becoming too bold

on a rare occasion i was pleased to be challenged by my school principal to write a report on Abraham Lincoln for years i thought he looked really bitching all Emo before Emo was a thing

grady learned different perspectives of global political history that 1986 i understood that in some ways human nature and our own personal choices would always drive the civilization inside of us before any collective could flourish

that year i had my fist brush of psychological testing my principal felt that i was confused for being of the opinion that the Union wasn’t aiming at freeing the slaves first per se but rather in uniting the country my folks never got wind of the situation and if they did they probably thought i’d grow out of it