February 2012
29 posts
2 tags
3 tags
Gorges in Reason
Illusions are elusive to credulous eyes, Yet seen. Mellifluously drifting between lies and lights And shadows too. Consider how smoothly they clasp The walls, the morning. I try to listen But I do not understand these trickeries. Is it because I partake unwittingly? I try to catch them– Their evidence must be in the aftertaste, the aftersight.
The ceiling has a landscape I feel I can touch. I...
3 tags
Fair Deal
Cavern tremors; the ground shook at your arrival. Golden was the ram that you fleeced my dark skin with, Power-hungry swagger preying on my naïve We swelled with the ichor, I gave you my antique, My bare survival is for you to dine, my swine; But tremble is the leftover of bland romance, Poison is the coronet of my idiocy.
Pulling a Medea. Vengeful scorn is sometimes Worse from a man with female...
6 tags
ALL THINGS BLUE EXCERPT 12
[This excerpt is from “Stalking Will”, one of the ten stories in the collection All Things Blue, now available for purchase online.]
The boy wasn’t paying attention to the details, however. He was on the phone, although he was barely listening, emotionless towards both caller and scenery. He sat on the wicker chair in the veranda, and with his free hand, took the cigarette case out of his shirt...
6 tags
All Things Blue Excerpt 11
[This excerpt is from “Losing Stuff”, one of the ten stories in the collection All Things Blue, now available for purchase online.]
Fervently, you write to each other. But, just as expected, it doesn’t take long before the words run out of fire. You cannot continue devouring things that only serve to amplify the drumming in your ears. You cannot subsist on words alone when all they’ve ever done is...
4 tags
Look Here. I’m A Satire.
I don’t want to waste my words on his bearded jaw any longer, because I realize there’s not enough beard to hold a story. There’s not enough beard to lick.
Two mounted men holding their lances. I’m done with these medieval horses, their dance. I’m done with all the galloping. I’m done with the tricks and the impalement. I’m through with all the fantasies. See, a guillotine promises more heads for...
3 tags
I’m waiting for you to care about me again I kinda need it.
1 tag
3 tags
Words = Sword
I’ve written my life in this blog. There are pieces that were directly taken from real events. Some were forged from longing, a few stemming from what-ifs, doubts, and loneliness. Everything, though, is painted in the acrylic of mistakes, regrets, struggles, and the occasional triumph. More bile than delight, isn’t it? In the end, that’s what life is all about. Count the years you had been...
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
jayarrarr:
To whom it may concern:
Dennis deactivated last night. His URL (thevagabondking) was subsequently taken over by at least two individuals who initially posted poetry. They’ve deleted those posts. Then they put up a post saying they were not Dennis, but had taken his URL so that he could not return. They have since deleted that post as well. There is now a single post on that blog,...
9 tags
1 tag
Follower Count Goes Down.
Just as I thought. 12 deactivations. I hope you are well, my Tumbleweeds. Thank you for being a part of my dash. Each post I caught was cherished.
(>’_’)>
4 tags
Dear Friend
You always were the perfect listener. For some reason, I found myself talking to you when I’ve stopped talking to the rest of the world. You were gentle and generous with the affirmations I sought. You were more than willing to be a witness to my dull existence. You knew I needed it, and you gave it to me without wanting it back. You sympathized about things I wanted and didn’t have, and you...
2 tags
Where Eros Drinks
The landscape is a scope of fountains, pockmarking the earthen dirt like circular mirrors. Silver they are not, because the trickle is that of what has been broken. The water is red, and the fountains glimmer like rubies.
You are a hero, winged and mercurial, descending upon that park bench where I write verses of death. That day the feathers are warm nectar, and my poetry revels in the sun you...
1 tag
Vingellus
These insomniac streaks mix with the rice steam; Minotaurian heartglow in the morning, Damnified in labyrinthine veins Of sleeplessness––your breakfast yolk.
Mirrors dine on your disgrace. Your eye beam Is the roughfair and ruination of Your own making. Dangermen: the refrain You seek. None has ever fit your moans.
You create heavenfire from your own bones, Incinerated very skillfully In your...
2 tags
[f]austere
Spiced thoughts while having curry noodle soup and coffee on this desolate morning. I feel like the world ended yesterday and I am now cruising limbo or a new version of hell, where everyone had turned to zombies traipsing the avenues, leaving a trail of heart and skin. Life is supposed to mean something, but I can’t help thinking I have traded my soul to the Devil for another breath of...
2 tags
X-ray of an Ex-god
Hooked boy, the Auroras witness your wolves. Maiden, Mother and Crone spy the contours That were taken in handfuls, In bagfuls hanging on your hook.
Detour. Like so, I was treated; No more than a sacrificial umbra your cronies overbooked. This was your playbook, wasn’t it? On your way to Pure Sky, I was a detour.
Good purist, you sold me cures. I bought a fantasy, a milieu from your mouth, Drank...
2 tags
Black Snow
I don’t know how much time I waste staring at your photograph everyday, and imagining how it would be to feel your heart from your arms and taste your soul from your lips.
I don’t know how much time I waste staring at my reflection after that, looking at the man you’ll never desire in the same way that he desires you. Then I waste more time, and I don’t know how much, wondering if someone looks...
4 tags
Man's.laughter
you kill with your shy smile your unassuming air the pearls in your irises slash like knives. even as plainly as you laugh with such effortless cheer you get to me… you kill.
4 tags
Hatred, Encased
I hate…
That you owned me, own me, and will own me forever.
That I have nothing to be proud of to compare with what you are, who you are, what you have, what you can get.
That I have nothing to offer.
That I hold out for something better. That I continue to hope, as though something could ever come out of this.
That I am drinking again.
That I know something is wrong but that I cannot...
2 tags
Love Letter
A sliver of happiness in an apartment room Sliced by the silence of first lights and ebbed tides. A war between yellows and blues, I lead the front lines
And your sleep waves a flag. The words of its message ignite in your breath. I listen. A great flame thaws my frozen soul.
Elsewhere, not far from here, a lake breathes, And its scent carries the message of willows. The role That fit for a...
3 tags
The Jeer
I wake up without intending to. I wish I didn’t. In truth, I wish I didn’t “have to” wake up anymore. Whoever desires to snivel like a zombie, or live like a waif? The hunger in my bedroom is apparent in the pulsing. Like a throbbing vein that has a singular craving. A cock with a yearning to decimate. This wraparound is made of cellophane and it covers my head. I breathe. In it, through it, with...
2 tags
1 tag
Lemme just say this:
Tumblr Writing Tribe, I love you. I freaking love you, my Brothers and Sisters in Ink.
I’m a month through a new job so my Tumblr time has been cut in half. I’m rarely on and just queuing stuff. But keep the messages coming, however. I’ll reply to them at some point in the weekend.
Also, consider purchasing my books. They are gems, people. Gems. And still on sale.
Talk to you...
2 tags
Finality
There are messages unreturned. The chatrooms are silent. My words are confetti in the wind and they fall without your notice. It stabs right through my chest. More than a knife, really. A clean impalement to rip me apart. I think I get it now. You’ll never see yourself the way you are reflected in my eyes. You think I’m jaded and you never compromise with your opinions. But there was only love...
1 tag
@softeepoet
How did you develop your writing skills? Did you study other poets and authors or was it based solely on your journey through life?
Reading and writing. I read everything. From the drab to the impressive. From the unknown to the familiar. From the soothing to the uncomfortable. Reading has given me a sense of perspective and expression. How writers think, manipulate, choose, research and create....
2 tags
rakuli replied to your post: All of us blog because we need validation. Be it from a single follower or 10,000. If you truly do not need an audience, you are not an artist and should stop creating altogether. If you write - good or bad - you are a writer. Period.
You bitch! It seems, based off your last 1 post, that you’re always whining!
Ass! Now take off your clothes and wrestle with me. :P
1 tag
All of us blog because we need validation. Be it...
People who shout about not needing validation are the ones who need it the most. There I said it.
3 tags
When It's Through
Morning broke. The mountain unfolded in a tangle of greens. The moist forest, stimulated by the descending heat, was unforgivingly redolent. A thick mist rose above the lower peaks, skulking through the trees. The woodland stirred with cheerful urgency, vegetation wakening and branches reaching proudly skyward. All around Alex, the air teemed with birdsong. A perfect time to laze about in the...
January 2012
113 posts
4 tags
2 tags
Strays
Lounging on planks. Smearing years In hunching defeat.
Gaping tin cans Of penniless pride slice clean Their auburn minds.
Royal ports Swimming in pollute– The city’s aria,
Its pointed sleep Dreaming brave dreams On mud mats
And soaked shirts Teeming armpit juice, Swearing like amulets.
Sidewalk pebbles know How their cheeks Blush in the cold,
September winds are privy To the cold point That...
4 tags
Forebodingly
You breed me. No, not porn. But the skeleton of it. Around and around, the flesh wraps us like scarlet ribbons. Like films of skin, glowing and reddened; sewn together to form a monster from the pieces you’ve cut. Perhaps it was the vodka that startled your ground. Splintered the armor you’ve built, I get it; because once, a long time ago, I’ve worn it, but not less awkwardly. Tonight, as the Moon...
3 tags
Beards
They get me all the time.
2 tags
There goes DMC again, gang-liking my posts and making me feel like royalty.
4 tags
On the Road. From 1/31 - 2/2
ordinarywonder:
Thanks for all the good wishes guys!
My queue is all set for the week, but I’ll sneak in some updates here and there. While I’m relocating here are 9 suggestions:
Support the #Fiction tag. ;)
Check out the LIPS Prompt Details.
Check out Burning Muse’s latest project
Try a Tumblr Fiction Prompt
Read about Savage Imaginations
Consider buying Travis’s Book
Consider...
prematurereality asked: Whatever happened to "Inqke"?
1 tag
To those who liked and reblogged that writing poetry piece. Thank you for the awesome response.
“The pessimism of the creative person is not decadence but a mighty passion for...”
– Isaac Bashevis Singer, in his speech of December 8th, 1978, accepting the Nobel Prize in Literature. (via barretta)
2 tags
Fucken Tattoo
They’d never know what happened between you and me. And even if they heard, there is no one to qualify it. Nobody would believe it anyway. It is nothing but a derelict thought, the last moaning of a dream, the untraceable haunting of a nightmare crushed by wakefulness. It is nothing but a welcome breeze on a hot day, gone with the next gust of sweltering winds. An apparition maybe, which needs...
4 tags
1 tag
1 tag
omniduffer replied to your post: So You Wanna Write Poetry?
What if one doesn’t want to write poetry? (Like me!)
Here, Duffy. But I think you already read that one. :)
4 tags
So You Wanna Write Poetry?
1. Carry a pen and paper with you. I know, writers say this a lot, but this is useful and there’s truth in it. When an idea occurs to you, you’ll need to have resources to jot them down. You won’t be able to memorize them. Believe me. 2. Learn vocabulary. That’s what the dictionaries are for. Using a thesaurus is not cheating. If anything, you will learn new words. Using them will increase your...
2 tags
softeepoet asked: What are some things that inspire you? I am a poet as well and find it hard to tap into my creative juices
3 tags
Eros and Psyche: a Writer's Landscape
“This is my workroom, where the manuscripts gather dust. Spirits skulk in the shadows and leave behind their wanderlust. In the serenity of this space, the 5 pm light burns like Olmec jade; and as I begin on my wrinkled journal, I feel myself begin to fade.” Soul It starts in my constraints. I own the words and I keep them here, dormant, until his heart stirs them. Whenever he holds the pen, I...
2 tags
While
Knees up, your faggot has kinged me; Wriggling in this full bed of all moan, This worm will kill all labels. Is that all of your lips, my dear? Patch holes with everything we tear. Hold it. I raise my pelvis duly. As we go on skinning into one– The slapping stitches our navels, And your fingers queer my leg hair. How does my sole feel on your ear? Clasp your totem. Your shooting signal Has more...
2 tags
I'm Reading Journals From The Year 2000
Oh my god. A writer I was not!
So ashamed of how I used to butcher the English language. On the other hand, considering how I turned out, I’m pretty proud.
See you all later, Tumbleweeds. This cringefest ought to last a while.
3 tags
Elegies
The merriment you boast is a black act. In truth, your yearning is for rectangles, The white itchiness of their reprisals, Hemmed by the prickliness of its abstract. Meticulous, this twin you let me see While beasts are caged under your devious airs. This is your gift–a solitude that tears And lies that leave the taste of earth in me. Tools can dig bones but not contingencies. Bereft, there is no...
3 tags
Winds
The miles between us Have made your heart diminish No need for goodbyes The start felt like the finish The end means I’ve lost you twice