| 1 Poem a Day for April |
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LightquakesIt’s the happy ones people hate for all their sighs as winter waves setting in the shores, quiet yet profound; I am the lightning bolt by the telephone tower outside Cleveland; I am striking everywhere. Yet how can you hear me here where thoughts are softer than memories you have of bench sitting after soccer?Lightquakes
Memories of
strawberry fields
after first rush, picking the old, dropped berries up in their purpleness and looking to see if they’re ok; you’re caught in comfort and lost out of touch of those that matter, dear poet, locked out in hate
by =Ghrey
BrightI want dreams to be bright.Bright
Sight unfolding past blackness bold in its misting of drip-like motel stalactites, it's how I want yellows bursting past sunken eyes, full with greens so unseen in these leaking pipes, lazy windpipes - loves and hope in images
that dreams may be -
that leave, faint, while some narrow bridge between world and mind,
mindsight as it is, boastless arrives; so thus then get up with little soul-lights left flickering on, on after that first leap
into the sudden unremembered sky of some long g
by =Ghrey
psychicIn some crazy kind of sight I see myself labored over by millions wanting to know who I am, what, if anything at all, I was. I wish for people to bury me whole to dig up my corpse later on and make love with science to the size of my skull.psychic
I see monitors tracking fleeting brainwaves as I die, in hopes to hold every little thing left behind; in a bold move
they clone me to link many more loving words together and once more lead the free world on home.
A creaking copse of trees will likely be the truth of
by =Ghrey
Favourites
Axe Murdererby *4moku2
Whiskers and WitchesWhen Jonathan found the cat head, he shrieked. The sound, squeaky and somewhere on the so-la-ti part of the scale, didn’t go far. It hung over the fur turfs of the tail, having gotten snagged on a bared rib bone. After Jonathan’s little heart resettled somewhere around the area of his chest cavity, he unclenched his small fist from his throat. His heart didn’t drop to his heels again.Whiskers and Witches
Jonathan swallowed a few times and crept around the log, back to the clearing. He was nearly an adult now, and the cat – he squeezed his eyes and remembered the eye-socket with a shudder – was dead. Like the owl Andrew had f
by =nycterent
ernieErnie e.bojnowskiernie
The color of the sky reminded me of when mama stands by the window twirling her topaz necklace. Looking out into the street at the heat coming of the black top like a wavy dragon. I can see its mouth biting at me, but it is not mean, it is just displaying that it is strong and could bite me if it wanted to. The sun smiles through the beads all orange and pretty. Sometimes I stand by the window light and hold a bead up to my eye and look into a new new blurry yellowy, orangey world. Like when you stare at something too long. And if she catches me doing it she smacks the back of my hand. Not so
by ~e-bojnowski
Warm
Chilled
NaPoWriMo
stone man comethHeft the stick in palms eager with beady eyes blaring out hate crimes long plains small figure lone preystone man cometh
raise the leg once, twice, flatwhiteplain cometh, small shrubs cometh, in the first hefting of the stick there is silence, snapped twig-limb from mother tree, reverence from the first lifting of the dirtgray hardsolid to the breaking, to the hitting and cracking there is the sound of new deaths,
counters to all reasons of life and living; struggle for ease and in creating create comfort, ways to kill and sharpen, to release life, such that big whiteplain and loneprey figure are man place an
by =Ghrey
cold childsilver festoons plummet over sorry heads as I cover deeper my illmilk hair, my fingerscold child
wrapped so tight in bands,
furlined bands to keep out what is not of body.
what is cold
but lack of mother's chest of father's back of teethprey in heap? is cold just groundfur, everywhere, coatlike?
is it not creation? to fight against groundfur, to live. no groundfur, no life. only groundmother,
only stone.
from where groundfur comes: a shedding in reverse;
if skymother babies wrap around all of us who is to say I cannot be
by =Ghrey
growth in the days of stoppingTell me little plant in your light-ways and dirt-ways how you stopped us in place, plantedgrowth in the days of stopping
us to plant you and only you and pause for a while; what made us yearn to talk and listen to our people and know what we meant when we came home to speak after meat-gather food-gather and know what it was to call the groundmother something, to call the greatsky something, to have sounds from the head and from the chest that told for our need to be.
Tell me little plant what your plans are for our men
and women setting up moreandmore woody lean-tos in the side of this mounta
by =Ghrey
the builder's sonI want to tell father I'm tired of laying bricks so I'll tell you: I'm tired of this mud and stone and grass and dirt, brown red muck set in little sections to make a wall to make a home so it can be lived in for the next twentyhundred years undisturbed by anyone real. Real people, the people who take life and eat fast and make things not the ones who sit and wait on their packed floors weaving wonders in their head; I feel like making a tall wall just to throw upon their heads.the builder's son
I justify my anger through my everlasting desire to help, let us love more the man with
by =Ghrey
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I like to sing. And write. And think. |
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- Apr 17, 2009 10 The Great Battle! by =Ghrey
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There is a train approaching a fork in the tracks (that cuts like a knife). There is the obligatory lever and people on the tracks. 1 person is on one, 5 on the other. None can move. Train can't stop. What would you do?
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Visitors
- Jul 16, 2009 @ 11:13 pm~Beaple
- Jul 16, 2009 @ 7:19 pm*eladra18
- Jul 15, 2009 @ 11:12 pm~FrancieT
- Jul 15, 2009 @ 8:49 pm*vampireknightfan
- Jul 15, 2009 @ 8:36 pm~SirBobbington
Shoutbox
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~stagegirl
- ...challenged the leader of the TwoTuckTeeth clan to a dance off. The TwoTuckTeeth clansmen whined for their leader to accept the challenge and show off his sicknasty breakdancing skillz, but their whines were silenced when...
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=Ghrey
- ...decided to hide in the corner while the TwoTuckTeeth clan came in and robbed the fat stripper of all her pearly whites. Incapable of engaging in normal conversations and filled with vengeance, the stripper...
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*doubleyou-tee-eff
- …A fat stripper came into the classroom. Naturally, there was one kid who enjoyed that sort of thing, but he…
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~pereubuisjesus
- magical jellybeans had depleted her body of calcium. The pants thief swaggered into the KEANU REEVES SCHOOL OF DENTISTRY wearing a batman costume. The other students laughed but they soon regretted actions when...
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*fairyrainsong
- get a degree in dentistry and become rich beyond avarice by underpricing all the other dentists who stood to make a killing on all the cavities all that sugar would cause. His mothers teeth would be the first to be attended to because snorting those
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~Aeromage
- ...produced unlimited quantities of sugar from nothing. With this, nothing would be able to stop the Pants Thief's plans to...
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~pereubuisjesus
- ...waged war on Mars. With the help of the horned kittens he soon obliterated the martian republics and gained position of their magical machine that...
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=Ghrey
- ...flew on rockets that popped out of their shoulderblades to antarctica, then saving the pants-thief. Using the horned kittens for his own diabolical schemes, the pants-thief...
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~pereubuisjesus
- sexually wayward prong-beast, but this was to no avail. The charged adam met his reluctant eve in cross-species orgasm of vicious goatish grunt and terrified meowling. Months later, eve gave birth to the dreaded HORNED KITTENS which...
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*fairyrainsong
- decided to make customized chia-bongs as christmas gifts for all her sons friends. This was going well until her neighbors goat went into heat and started stalking her 8 year old house cat. The cat stayed underfoot constantly to keep away from the
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=Ghrey
- ...first started snorting caffeine pills. As this was not normally considered physically possible, the pants-thief's mother was notorious in science circles. As her son was still in jail, and because she was mad scientist in her spare time, she ...
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*fairyrainsong
- wheel barrow which had been modified with handle bars and an old lawn mower engine so she could drive it around the backyard. It kept her out of the car so much, you see....a good thing actually because her driving had gotten dangerous since she
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=Ghrey
- ...his mother. They talked for a long time about existentialism, reality, and the garden she was making in the backyard, when she promptly brought the conversation to a close, grabbed her battle music mix tape, and hopped in her mighty ...
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=nycterent
- ...faced a life sentence behind ice bars and a lifetime of Klondike bars for breakfast. Having a single phone call, the thief used it to great effect by dialing..
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=Ghrey
- ...a dance crew to distract the masses while the pants thief was whisked away to parts unknown. In these parts unknown, also known as Antarctica, the thief ...
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~Aeromage
- ...proceeded to sue the United Nations for a sizable sum. In a desperate bid to stop him, the UN summoned...
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~Choque-Plumbeo
- ...stole my pants taking advantage of me being too drunk to notice, On the way home the pants thief tripped on a godzilla limb and...
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=Ghrey
- ...you drank 20 glasses of wine and made a great impression on the person you were eating with. Later that evening, back at your house, the pants thief...
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~Choque-Plumbeo
- ...my pants which was a tad unconffortable but i got used to it, later that night in my hot date...
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=Ghrey
- ...did nothing, as bombs are passé and no one cares about them anymore. The bomb maker had forgotten the explosives, leaving them in ...
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for taking the time to read and contemplate my work and watching.
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"Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is." - A.Camus
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Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.
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"millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy sunday afternoon." -susan ertz
i tip my hat to you too.
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Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.
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Hey --- that's MY box of crayons!!
*Writers-Club
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Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.
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Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.
of the 'Save The World' cause I am hosting.
The first little challenge is ready and is in my journal
click the [link]
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"In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true."
-Buddha
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"Be creative and make a unique signature...One without inspirational quotes or random statistics that were made up on the spot, like 90% of the other signatures on DeviantArt. Create one that shows who you are!"
Oh wait-
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Bore, n.: A person who talks when you wish him to listen.
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