Newest
OysterThis swell inside— It is not my heart filling with love for you That swell is gone. And in its place There is a bastard swell— Betrayal.Oyster
It came at once— It struck like an atomic bomb within It knocked my lungs square of their wind The effects are monumental— Irreconci
by ~tofog
On the F Train Without YouI’ve started this poem before--- The F train departing just as I arrive But such ease to swell, another behind To bring me to you. Though now you are gone. This train goes elsewhere.On the F Train Without You
A single clue left to be had on this puzzle, And only your realm— I know not a Christian of Egypt Or the temperature of desert sand. Though you do. This crossword will lie incomplete.
Your stops are all nameless illusions. There once had been choices
by ~tofog
3:5I do not recognize this grey. Above, it is the wide expanse, Below, some absent shadow. Or nearly absent: wilt.3:5
To see, this grey is stratus. To believe, Ecclesiastes gathering stones en masse. We could never handle such hope.
You cast them beyond distance. Near absence locks all tools in limbo, Measurements recess, And my perception is selective.
“It is just an overcast sky.” That is vanity, façade. It is the change in season And no wall eliminates
Growth.
by ~tofog
IndulgencesIndulgencesIndulgences
The moon in full swell bathes the distance between us, magnifies the hours hands fall to missing hips. You’re at the top of some snow drenched mountain, All green hills are gone, And I, stuck within two rivers, do drown in this city,
so strange now without you.
Wires are nothing, and dial tones less. Your voice is just a busy signal and the distance expands with each disengagement. The smog grows thicker with each breath. By this point the litter must be up
by ~tofog
Favourites
The AppointmentWe watch out the window. I, and the boy who has fallenThe Appointment
asleep on my shoulder, twice. I couldn’t bear to wake him either time, though we have never met, and I find his closeness discomforting. But we are both awake now
and he has righted himself. The stop and go traffic shook him and together we
appreciate the scenery, without speaking a word. I am aware of our collective coughing (it’s flu season) and of the women across the row glaring and fastening masks around their ears. Do not expect luxury I think and force a grim smi
by ~silvertears
this heart
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: new york, new york
- Interests: music, writing, drawring, acting, reading, exploring, observing, loving
- Favourite band or musician: Van Morrison, Jackson Browne, CocoRosie
- Favourite genre of music: love love love
- Favourite poet or writer: EE Cummings, Gerard Manley Hopkins, John Irving, Leo Tolstoy
- MP3 player of choice: Discman
- Wallpaper of choice: George Costanza
- Skin of choice: Skin under your fingernails
- Favourite game: Truth or dare.
- Favourite cartoon character: The miniature elephant who I've captured forever in my skin.
- Personal Quote: Bunny?
- Tools of the Trade: Paper and Pen
- Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/arc1327/
- Email: Shadowboxer1327@aol.com
- AIM: Shadowboxer1327
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you write interesting works ! keep it up
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The only matter I miss is a person whom I want to write a letter. (Sandor Marai)
=Slovakia
are you on icq?
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Carpe Noctem!
Macabre
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Carpe Noctem!
Macabre
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MUSE
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this space left intentionally blank
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Lt. Maria Laguerta: So then he must have already had the head with him in the front seat. Huh, that's weird. Why would he keep it there?
Dexter Morgan: I don't know. So he could use a carpool lane.
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Kilroy was here
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