eu ouço minha voz e me ajude a ouvir as vozes de toda a humanidade
a hora da voz
West Hollywood
angelitos
my city she loves
the kids and all that they are
they have voices too
spread the WLS
no cocktails at Sharon’s barn
An Crann
By Nuala Ni Dhomhnaill
| Do tháinig bean an leasa le Black & Decker do ghearr sí anuas mo chrann. D’fhanas im óinseach ag féachaint uirthi faid a bhearraigh sí na brainsí ceann ar cheann. |
Do tháinig bean an leasa
le Black & Decker
do ghearr sí anuas mo chrann.
D’fhanas im óinseach ag féachaint uirthi
faid a bhearraigh sí na brainsí
ceann ar cheann.
wls’ interpretation
do that thing beans and greens
leave the vacuum at the door
do get me anise more crunch please
Delfina’s husband i’m not on it
Agnes’ feather chains contribute
to Fina’s husband’s bad urethra
Le’faida ate at Barragan’s while suffering
terrible waves within the brain
Celine’s dress can at times be archetypal
do that thing you do with swing
and kiss me hard dear Lisa
put black peeper on the floor
did Gary travel from Uranus
more charisma please Ms. Shirlee
du’waana go to Sunland
i’m searching for some air and group
the disco club where walls are surreal
ok no brainer i understand
no cocktails at Sharon’s barn
spread the WLS
not mainstream
the sun is shy dark weepy sad the red stars on the hipsters Mao bags are dull it is a bazaar of thought living on the tops of the foam of your demon seas rebel rider non Jane Fondaer grown girl he dirty boy military card heir LA west of Hollywood Battleship Potemkin plays let’s go drop bomb on my tongue baby Jimmy Hendrix’s way irony one hundred ways to think that we can go to Sizzler after this and dude your mom has a new car but if i were on that ship ida’ve done the same damn thing he sings to me God Save the Queen and we go fuck behind the dumpster but we can’t seem to fit it in and we go back to talking about politics
spread the WLS
a.d. friday 12.27
spread the WLS
ornithology
timid
green
eyed child
limp wheat hair
falls wet in the cold
rain tucked safe outside while the fire of
hate rages inside the walls of your land tenderly wilting all hopes away
a woman red hair blue suit white badge warped picture no passion picks you up silently both walk down the pebbled
path by the time Wilshire Blvd. is reached the bird nest is out of sight and you mature again manila files County words where are the crayons and Raggedy Anns pink Buster Browns forgotten
the clouds bright against tan butcher paper sad faces for the judge of the cages in my heart smile we must
fire suffocated unhappiness averted for a night or two little bird strains away
to reach those pink pebbles and pumpernickel bread
Canter’s chicken soup mummy’s black
eye gone for
now both
conditionally
freed
spread the WLS
supernova
the sun and the moon
shine simultaneously beyond the pale
rotating wildly then dreadful silence
spread the WLS
hard knocks
step up time tick tocks
the young are getting older
golden apple bit
Written in response to prompt:
I Write Her Weekly Haiku/Senryu Challenge #12
spread the WLS
1948
at long last a home
for the weary bones
chosen and loved
above all
in the classification
of mud and breath
here a kingdom
you will have and
come forth to multiply
as life meant to
last
however there are
many rivers to cross
and all are made of fire
spread the WLS
Ananias of the West (then came Saul) {ii}
once you touched my face
in blessing set me free
to fly and tell my soul
to come to you lost and
frightened in the cage of
the walls of sorrow
she cannot hear me as
i fly by her house of
blue thunder and the rain
melts my body to the
ground
words less spoken 