my newest favorite muse....
"Take a stone from the beach and put it on my pocket to keep
Photo me in the roots of a tree lying on a bed of fallen leaves...
Make a circle on my hand and tell me all the things that make you sad
Searching for the words know that when you find them theyll be heard." ~p.j.
GIMME, GIMME, GIMME....
post a poem.
i have a deadline coming up & i need to get cracking on some portfolio plumping poetry...inspire me my muses...
i'll show you mine if you show me yours-
i clutch shards of shattered promises,
your shameless prose-
used to slice pale skin from
unsuspecting bones.
voyueristic, prying into my veins,
red blood.
(your hands), the color of shame.
embers glow on the bed of ashes,
bridges burned by careless matches,
tossed over upheld shoulders.
you never turned around to watch while you destroyed-
everything that we created,
all desires gone unsatiated,
though you tortured with anticipation,
of pictures eager limbs had painted.
golden days we swam through intertwined,
shutter shook, half drunk & still uptight,
undiscovered yet you violated chambers of my mind.
layer stripped from layers, love,
i held you right where i hold this grudge.
now write me a poem fuckers.....
"Take a stone from the beach and put it on my pocket to keep
Photo me in the roots of a tree lying on a bed of fallen leaves...
Make a circle on my hand and tell me all the things that make you sad
Searching for the words know that when you find them theyll be heard." ~p.j.
GIMME, GIMME, GIMME....
post a poem.
i have a deadline coming up & i need to get cracking on some portfolio plumping poetry...inspire me my muses...
i'll show you mine if you show me yours-
i clutch shards of shattered promises,
your shameless prose-
used to slice pale skin from
unsuspecting bones.
voyueristic, prying into my veins,
red blood.
(your hands), the color of shame.
embers glow on the bed of ashes,
bridges burned by careless matches,
tossed over upheld shoulders.
you never turned around to watch while you destroyed-
everything that we created,
all desires gone unsatiated,
though you tortured with anticipation,
of pictures eager limbs had painted.
golden days we swam through intertwined,
shutter shook, half drunk & still uptight,
undiscovered yet you violated chambers of my mind.
layer stripped from layers, love,
i held you right where i hold this grudge.
now write me a poem fuckers.....
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
There you go... an oldy but goodie from moi.
ok, so the story is pretty bizarre. it takes place in a post-apocalyptic "anywhere". there's no specific mention of any towns or landmarks so the reader can decide to put the story wherever they want it. the story is basically God getting sick of his job and quitting. he releases his bond with all the angels and other gods (from all major religions past and present) and they're all kind of roaming the Earth doing whatever they want.
i'm also writing the book as if it was written by an angel that watches mankind. so the whole story is written in present tense cause it's "being written as it's happening". also, since it's written roughly 30 years in the future, i'm taking the route of inventing my own words and making a glossary section.
the quickest way to describe it is probably:
1st dune book + 1st dark tower book + the history of religion = my book
ok, well that's about it. let me know if you have any other questions. again, thanks for your help. and good luck with the leg. being bed ridden blows goats.