Category Archives: Writing

Looming Velocipede Know as Sister-yphus

woman-in-mirror

Full of doubt

Sitting,

Waiting with out.

The tears comfort themselves now

Because I’m always such a fool

For how words form

In that beautiful mouth.

I’m sodden now with

All the things you can’t with.

Even showers neglect to clean me

Before dusk falls on my thoughts.

My heart sings believe

My smart mind knows better

No matter how much your touch

Brings life back to my shatteredness.

Why,

Why rolling heavy losses up mountain tops,

As I wait for years of time to finally catch up.

Even I was unaware the torture

Would eventually turn on itself.

Nothing left of this field of sweet

smells, black top, and hopeless tires rolling as intended wanting to miss

the boulder set to meet me at sunset with only a man running the

opposite direction instead of

towards the helplessly lost.

Brace for impact.

Or not.

Advertisements

Hemlock Realities

hemlockblog-8

Some times,

Fantastic fantasy grabs ahold

Leaving nothing but this mirrored,

Narrowed view,

While separating one

Onto a mountain top,

With a back drop painted with well intentions.

But it ends up looking more like something,

You painted with hazardous paint,

From your childhood dreams.

That you eventually must eat.

The convulsing doesn’t seem to stop,

Nor does the hole in your chest

Pump an adequate amount of blood

Until you pour more idealism on top of them.

Then you spend so many moons and moods trying to feel human again.

Yet,

You really aren’t.

You’ve been cast by your school bully,

Just playing their interpretation of you.

Everyone eventually so shocked,

They just sit by,

Speaking in hushed tones to your facsimile,

Hoping for you,

The breaths will slowly return,

The sky will clear-

So you can figure out what you need to finally do

To take care of you.

Trying to remember it.

A funeral but for the things I have to tell myself sometimes to just breathe.

A eulogy for all the things turreted towards me I thought I could help, or fix, or get back on track but never did.

A pyre lit for all the potential I see in people that they never discovered of themselves burning with the oil made of the pain that has resulted because of this.

What do people do after this?

Lost broken hope,

Every bit deep enough inside themselves just hoping one day it’s a Pandora’s box with someone else opening it thousands of years away unleashing it’s empathy back into light.

If I had hope currently, I’d believe that but it must have gone in with the rest while I wasn’t paying attention. 

So I’ll just wait here. Because I’m tired of kind of always just holding it up anyway. I probably deserve a break. 

Fragment 17.000

Poor thing,

tired and dirty ❤️

Was hoping I would want to write more when I arrived but it seems as though I’m still just caught in the ocean of some strange tide.

However, happy I did not surprise anyone because really that was a ghost from a former life I should not have ever wasted a thought on. I think I’ve always known I had no loyalty to seek there. Being so busy now, it’s just exhausting expelling my energy on mummified peach seeds that once brought comfort. Plus, I’ve learned a lot about love since then. I want the kind, that just fits. If it’ll have me eventually that is.

Suppose that’s growth or me seeking more fun in my life? Who knows?

I’m gunning for more unsolicited adventures in my life, what a riot just little pit stops were even

😌

Xoxo

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.🦋

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

Xoxo 

💜

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.

❤️
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: