Fragment 16.043

Road trip travel 

And two best friend sets

Working out the details 

Seeing the marcabe things

History will eventually wash away

And enjoying each other’s company.

Because sometimes you have to

Let the minutes pass

And surround oneself 

With natures wondrous bounty.
An unexpected visit to a past that died when I was 20. The big city and sweet treats to eat. Whew I hope I pack enough coffee, ghost grave yards, beautiful mountains, wide open oceans and hopefully the rebirth of us 3.ūü¶č

I’m hoping to remember to document things to take you all along with me

Xoxo 

ūüíú

Fragment 16.000

48 hour round trip road trip in the works
From Midwest south all the way up the eastern coast to Vermont.
And soul fury soothing before
Time changes it all.
Because even broken leaves dance
When winters bite tries to keep the sun hidden from sight.

‚̧ԳŹ
Xoxo

Fragment 14.999

I watched as breaths became battle grounds,

Family just another word for stress

In a time of need

So I lit a menthol 

And watched death become 

A leering shadow circling 

A country yard,

Where silence was the nearest comfort.

To each his own passing my lips

While the butt became my 

Lamenting encarnate

Burning, but only ever so gently 

In this lighting 

And with these seesaw people.

So my god 

Comes to mind,

As well as

Please don’t let this be me.

Let me remember all the important things .

While passing them like coals 

To every soul I gather

To rename family. 

Otherwise,

I’m just death’s shadow watcher

And the end,

As ugly as chimps can get.

So,

There would be no rest.

Fragment 14.567

11 days,

I trade a faded memory for

The hustle of a highway

That has me bone tired 

A distant melody over

Morning coffee and a smidge of nicotine 

With so many options 

At moments it’s a fireworks display 

In fast forward 

And all one can do

Is be excited to 

Live life outside once again

Surrounded by the beauty of time 

And all it’s constructed works 

Admist the growing meddled of man.

Bucolic Belligerence 

The littered pieces of a dying life 

Clutter up the living space

Begging to be idealized 

Merely crowed the living the 

Habitants  were trying to do.

So a ponderous question pointiantly 

Floated above the room-

What is ownership anyhow 

Until a crash elated the crowd

Before they all remembered who 

They really were before 

Glorified pieces of lightning on sand

Ruled the entire world 

And plastic became a state of living.

Reminding all once again,

That immortality lies

In the bearing of teeth 

Around the ones they love

While throats exalted dramaturgy 

Not status, ideas, or items

Until the home became the infinite stars 

And not some walled prison cell.

Requiem for Desire in Destruction minor

  • img_4435

My charred wings,

Always embarrassed me,

As though falling

Wasn’t the choice I’d always pick

So effortlessly.

It’s the decent,

That thrills me,

As though us falling to endings

Were some sort of tragedy.

And it’s how we were born to be.

So my earthen cherub with

Golden curls of forbidden longing

Skyline eyes of desirous mornings

It’s always been you.

Our days written,

You,

Running amuck with

This yearning heathen,

As though the eons before

Ever mattered

Before highway miles

With roaring scramblers careening

Meant as much as

The skyline of mortal intervening

Where our lips met,

Now there is nothing left but

Our temples of stars sublime

Conceleaing only our wild fires

Perched to anhilate everything on the horizon.

Words: M(e.)

Kindling killer baby: Corvinerum

http://www.deviantart.com/art/Burning-Desire-513862604

Destiny’s deconstruction sounds:

Fragment 13.333

My soul begins to shift-

Like a town full of ghosts,

And all it seeks is your smoldering lips

Puckered like petals prepared to fall

Every time my joyous cackle

Permeates the nipping spring air.

Then my heart begins to sing,

Like the coral chimes 

We bought together one March.

I realize,

Every beautiful moment lately 

Is my dying,

Followed by my rebirth 

As the ferns and Alstromeria

In giant terra-cotta planters.

So all that comes to mind,

Is the breeze on bodies,

The waves of rhythm,

And the ecstasy of you with me

From sun up until sundown

Until I land on earth again.

And I’m all yours.

Fragment 13117

The wind,

Commanding the planet 

And the planets aligning 

Turning topside 

Most everything .

So with a quiet sigh,

I prepare beyond what eyes can perceive.

I begin to pack 12 years away

Like this solace will be my life’s 

Most healing.

And all I can think is how I need 

A change as much as anyone.

So the trash is full of relics,

That haunted others more than I.

While we smile at the memories,

Like a faded day,

That should have ended ages ago.

And I prepare for the new story on the horizon.

I want to write it this time.

Xoxo

Fragment 11.983

Forgive me, this is now months old. I felt cleaning drafts was due before years end. Interesting topic, as I, myself date older men. But there’s a line somewhere in 2016, no? Here’s to thinking one grew out of his teens just because the years passed and someone that would never ‚̧

Start tyrate after a 6 hour drive and too much time to think with my beautiful daughter next to me:

What sort of man incites such malice with in a kind heart like mine? One that thinks it’s funny to hit on my 15 year old daughter. One, that expects me to buy him unending beers. One, that leaves me in front of a busy hotel to meet a gaggle of men asking me why I’m an irish girl in part of town I don’t belong in, alone outside. The sort, that sits in a car silently, phone in hand, as I stave off a 6’3′ man accosting me in a parking lot I also didn’t belong in that all the while pretends he loves me. ¬†But mostly, a 40 yo man wanting a child. I will always protect before I partake in anything selfish. If two 15 year olds had children, You’re practically old enough to be her grandfather. ¬†Get it now?

So, enjoy the reality. The true one, not ¬†some I’m ¬†misunderstood delusion. I wonder if there is a public list for this man’s kind. Stop coming here as well. You are also not welcome to steal my writing for your own inspiration either.

In the meantime, perhaps a decent girl proving her point can be finished with a disappointment beyond imagination. Thanks for the momentary loss of faith in humanity. Good thing, I know how to make it, share it, give it, instead of take it.

Xoxo

 

 

 

Villt hross a√į fara

This years best season,

Ending on such sour notes,

Giving way to good harvest,

With a lesson-remote.

Curled lying lips corrupt,

Undue, unjust,

Never makes for loving so much.

Faded memory still passing like thinning fog

Only at the bottom of mountain tops on Tuesdays-

Leaving room for another’s endless hope I collect

Like the sun’s rays beaming trust.

So sorry for that luck,

I’m bundling up:

Emotional blackmail,

Piled on the porch untouched.

And I am returning to sender,

A forked tongue and angled tail benders.

All the stagnant,

Unpragmatic-

Three soul mates a year sort of romantic love.

Along with the hateful glances of a barely mortal man’s drunken red anger

Based somewhere in the what I have’s-

What you should entail,

And the what happened not’s.

I leave it world’s away

Trying to control so much while-

Fabricating nebulous notions

for ornamental pickles.

Dangling ¬†for the sake of art’s sake.

Emotional courtship only,

Floating the bragard’s specter boat-

Like it’s a hold you up crutch keeping hope afloat.

So it’s my serendipitous road from here on out,

To the golden ocher leaves of real adoration

And undying crimson devotional lust-

Hidden In his soft kiss and rough handed soul

Plucking strings like Santana,

Healing the troves of

goodness,

And just his burning blue eyes,

Making diamonds out of my scars,

Between the planks on ocean pier moonlit walks.