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platonic apologiesfor that night when I couldn't Ditch the hardon or when all our plans ca,e to fluition on the lamplit streets near times square or acid or downsplatonic apologies
or pushin the Kaliedoscope w crystals and powders hidden in the mouth of that odd ebontype making the world smell of melted plastic but excess has become just enough
by ~blahbeastie
Between 1 and 4 am June 14thSinging songs: the world seems infantileBetween 1 and 4 am June 14th
Skinning fish of disease
On this blasted summers eve Has become difficult Seen dim in skin borrowed from neighbors
Is’ Flesh looks pale even in shadow Especially to these men Smoking their teeth in the car With the last they have to spend Making the interior smell of melted plastic
Dead for their beliefs
In coats borrowed from brothers One mind one body one soul Reported endlessly through the night
The boat is tilting
The boat is tilting Salk stings the eyes and ears And
by ~blahbeastie
I see behind blue textured eyeI see behind blue textured eyes shared with me: masculinity (sexless old age;) pride— from the front side— she would rather build than create.I see behind blue textured eye
From the right with curl’d corners and blood lined white: weakness— for dresses and dabbed cosmetics; for romance novels read in cycles with covers of love making though the vision is tearing
and the mind is shaking.
She’ll look away for me to see, at the blinking tele-screen
or photograph album left open on the end-table, Only the Right.
by ~blahbeastie
Why did I quit smoking?Cigarettes are beginning to taste of memories, year old, thought of fondly -- while smoke wraps the face with scent, the movie dreamWhy did I quit smoking?
haze sequence -- of dancing wildly in parking complexes with a smoldering butt warming the knuckles. The feel – melting fiber as lips connected – eyes meeting – bodies twined about each other. The
scent; def’nate, holding, recognizable when mixed with that which is our natural-- a signature for recollection musty like powder’d tar.
by ~blahbeastie
Favourites
Two Photographs fromTwo Photographs from Cooking for a Family: Ten Minute MasterpiecesTwo Photographs from
^
Drops of mercury in swordfish, from the sea comes
poison silver food: eaten with hungry eyes and cracker crumbs, all the gills that could be wrung from slab side miracles your knife baptized, white meat beneath glows like a gun. It's said that some fish fly.
by =adahplatha
PandoraThe very first woman, Mankind’s gift and curse, A gift for man to adore, And the curse that plagues him.Pandora
Molded by Hephaestus, Out of silt and clay, The masterpiece of his hands, Like man but different.
Zeus breathed her to life, Athena made her intelligent, There is no knowledge or craft, She does not know.
The Graces made her charming, Apollo endowed her music, With a nightingale’s voice,
She could shame the Sirens.
Rivaling Aphrodite, In beauty and grace, With curiosity and cunning, Of that of Herme
by ~chambered-nautilus
NeverImagine all the words never spelledNever
Because of sentences never written
Letters never read
Thoughts never recorded
All the dreams in the end forgotten
What about the poems never published
Books never read
Products never used
Energy never burned
Because of people never discovered
Loners never found
Babies never born
What about feelings never felt
Experiences never had
Truths never told
Apologies never made
Promises never carried out
Happiness never smiled upon
What about all the hands never held
Flowers never bloomed
Scents never smelt
Anniversaries never celebrated
No us to think about
No break up, no get together to be had
The sun
by ~NoWhereToHideX
Devious Journal EntrydeviantID
No deviantID yet.
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Phoenix AZ
- Interests: Stuff
- Favourite band or musician: Rolling Stones right now
- Favourite genre of music: Im a 60's rock brat
- Favourite artist: You.
- Favourite poet or writer: Either Kerouac or Ginsberg
- Favourite style of art: Anything that doesnt make me want to vomit...
- Shell of choice: Hermit Crab
- Skin of choice: Mine... usualy.
- Personal Quote: If you're not me then who am I?
- Tools of the Trade: Boredom
- AIM: blahbeastie
- MSN: Xynk69@yahoo.com
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--
"Poetry is the perfume of the soul." - Otep Shamaya
little darling
--
Probability probably doesn't even exist.
But what for, love?
--
Probability probably doesn't even exist.
said the Devart. And lo there was gratitude.
*sigh*
--
Probability probably doesn't even exist.
--
If two people love eachother, there can be no happy end to it.
-Ernest Hemingway
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