Lit blog

[RhymeFairy]

That would make such a great poem. I can picture that in my mind.

He is my *organized* child. Always wants to help and demands things be as they should be. That chair in place, this door shut, noooo Charlie Brown you cannot put that toy there.

*chuckles

Silly boy, but the love I receive ... Nothing could ever compare to those feelings ... just priceless ... precious~

 

[vampiredust]

He is my *organized* child. Always wants to help and demands things be as they should be. That chair in place, this door shut, noooo Charlie Brown you cannot put that toy there.

*chuckles

Silly boy, but the love I receive ... Nothing could ever compare to those feelings ... just priceless ... precious~

" What do you think of the world? You, the prism, measure the light of the world; it burns through your mind to throw a different spectroscopic reading onto white paper than anyone else anywhere can throw.

Let the world burn through you. Throw the prism light, white hot, on paper. Make your own individual spectroscopic reading.

Then, you, a new Element, are discovered, charted, named! "

- Ray Bradbury, from his book
"Zen in the Art of Writing - Essays on Creativity"

Could only think of this quote when I read this

 

[flyguy69]

Maybe she needed the wake up call. Sometimes that is all it takes. Peeps get busy in that 9-5 swing and get into a groove, forgettin day, time, space ...

My 5 yr old son told a man at the flea market ... You know your really fat, and all your stuff is really dirty. I mean everything. You need to wash it or sumfin' ...

I just about fell out and melted into the sidewalk ...

My 8 y.o. cousin was standing behind my aunt in line for communion and said "Mom, you've got a really big butt."

 

[Willows_Tears]

dear lord one day after and it is already too late
how does this happen anyway?
I was quite content being content--
is it you forget to say you love me
was it a day without proclimations exclamations indications
that I am the woman to end all women
am I really that selfish?

you say the only way you could ever hold my attention
was to speak to me in a new language
until I learned it and then
start speaking a new one
to keep me reaching, guessing,
and you are right

I really am that bad

and I think it might be too late
I searched him like a stalker
and the phone rang
and I could not take my eyes from the screen god I just kept falling
falling and his voice! why did I have to listen to his VOICE
slow sexy sweet southern lord help me
and then my cell phone rang and still
I still could not move from the hold of his words
until the bus came
and broke the trance

but not before I broke my rules
writing a simple note to say hello
which is not so bad afterall
be good willow be good
but god this ache this hollow fire that begs to be filled
and he is just a man just a man just another man
and some holes were never meant to be filled by others
but god it feels so good to try
am I such a fool?

We all got holes to fill,
And them holes are all that's real,
Some fall on you like a storm,
sometimes you dig your own.
~tvz

 

[Willows_Tears]

diagnosis of the helpless romantic in love with falling in love

1. crave the feeling of being someone's everything, the one true thing

2. be as brilliant as possible to lure little moths to the flame

3. repeat step 2 until you find one that is fireproof. better yet, find another flame to join.

4. fall in love. bliss! until you actually approach becoming his everything, singularity! joy!

5. panic! come on who really wants to be someone's everything??? What a terrifing concept!

6. carve out a piece of yourself that is just for yourself

7. protect it at any cost

8. until that piece starts to feel lonely, to crave the feeling of being someone's everything

9. repeat steps 2-8 until you realize no matter how many pieces you set aside of give away there is always another cut that can be made, an infinite number of segments between zero and one and the only way to get there the only way to get there all the way to One is

10.

 

[vampiredust]

I wept last night. I actually wept. I thought about lot of stuff as I did and pain transcended form into tears.

 

[annaswirls]

its a good thing, Dust. I have not cried in a while. Thanks for reminding me to let it happen.

 

[normal jean]

its a good thing, Dust. I have not cried in a while. Thanks for reminding me to let it happen.

I cry everyday, then stomp in the puddles of tears

 

[annaswirls]

I cry everyday, then stomp in the puddles of tears

ooh that sounds like fun!

I am sweating puddles today, if I can get myself to cry, I will join you in some puddle jumping!

 

[Lauren Hynde]

I have been sick for a while and am currently on a cortisone-based treatment that not only makes me sweat several galons of water every night but also makes me cry while doing things like reading Porno or watch Scrubs on TV, so if you need any more puddles to stomp and jump, let me know!

 

[flyguy69]

I have been sick for a while and am currently on a cortisone-based treatment that not only makes me sweat several galons of water every night but also makes me cry while doing things like reading Porno or watch Scrubs on TV, so if you need any more puddles to stomp and jump, let me know!

You must have good porn over there. I hardly sweat at all, though I sometimes get a puddle on my tummy.

 

[vampiredust]

Sometimes it helps to talk about things

I never realised how much of a failure I am until today. It was my Mother's birthday and we met up with my older sister for a birthday lunch at a Spanish restaurant near us for tapas. She is the most successful out of my two sisters and me; the one with a great degree, great job, great prospects, great flat. You get the idea. Today, it was shoved right in my face. She decided to pay for lunch today, shoving her gold cards right in my face. We went into town afterwards and again, she shoved everything I didn't have right in my face, buying things that she knew I wouldn't be able to afford. I just wanted to scream and bury myself in a hole somewhere. On the bus back home, I wanted to cry. I just wanted to sob. I guess I'll have to be successfull in my own ways

 

[Lauren Hynde]

You must have good porn over there. I hardly sweat at all, though I sometimes get a puddle on my tummy.

Pervert.

 

[annaswirls]

I never realised how much of a failure I am until today. It was my Mother's birthday and we met up with my older sister for a birthday lunch at a Spanish restaurant near us for tapas. She is the most successful out of my two sisters and me; the one with a great degree, great job, great prospects, great flat. You get the idea. Today, it was shoved right in my face. She decided to pay for lunch today, shoving her gold cards right in my face. We went into town afterwards and again, she shoved everything I didn't have right in my face, buying things that she knew I wouldn't be able to afford. I just wanted to scream and bury myself in a hole somewhere. On the bus back home, I wanted to cry. I just wanted to sob. I guess I'll have to be successfull in my own ways

you already are
you are on the right path, cw

 

[ghost_girl]

My youngest daughter graduates from high school in less than 3 hours.

me so happy, words cant explain. my last birdie, technically outta the nest, and off to Florida Monday for 2 weeks. this means I am now able to go off to work with my hubby...in dirty powerhouse boilers with dirty men,

 

[Tzara]

Walking along the Leidsegracht early yesterday morning, I saw a mouse. A small, rather ordinary mouse, flitting along the base of a stoop, sheltered by an iron railing. It was pecking about in the dead leaves that had blown up against the stone—foraging for food, I suppose. I stood quietly and watched it dart back and forth, back and forth, only two or three feet away. At times it would stop and look up at me. I didn't move.

When I brought my camera up to snap its picture, it began to shift about more quickly, more nervously. Just as I focused for my shot, it leapt to the wall and down its hole.

Later, I was walking through the Red Light district, near the Old Church. The women are all displayed behind full length glass doors; doors like those on the freezer case at the supermarket. The lighting (or the glass—is it tinted?) makes them look like wax figures. Madame Tussaud's is just down the street, on the Dam.

I raised my camera and one leapt from her neon cocoon to shout, "No pictures of the girls!" I didn't know.

Later still, I found the hotel where Chet Baker died.

 

[RhymeFairy]

Walking along the Leidsegracht early yesterday morning, I saw a mouse. A small, rather ordinary mouse, flitting along the base of a stoop, sheltered by an iron railing. It was pecking about in the dead leaves that had blown up against the stone—foraging for food, I suppose. I stood quietly and watched it dart back and forth, back and forth, only two or three feet away. At times it would stop and look up at me. I didn't move.

When I brought my camera up to snap its picture, it began to shift about more quickly, more nervously. Just as I focused for my shot, it leapt to the wall and down its hole.

Later, I was walking through the Red Light district, near the Old Church. The women are all displayed behind full length glass doors; doors like those on the freezer case at the supermarket. The lighting (or the glass—is it tinted?) makes them look like wax figures. Madame Tussaud's is just down the street, on the Dam.

I raised my camera and one leapt from her neon cocoon to shout, "No pictures of the girls!" I didn't know.

Later still, I found the hotel where Chet Baker died.

a wish to walk forever on

watch sky scrapers erected
so tall, centuries of whispering they chant
calling to passerbys, come
read my lines, scale my steps
immerse yourself into me
for I have been, seen all, know
your path.

museums, full of history
hissing their past life
crinkled caskets tipped open
offering a glimpse into a past
presenting intrigue, questions
like a scroll of what happened
bloodied, torn
tempting you to figure out
the puzzle.

I could walk forever. become one
with earth wind and sun. catch
the grit of legendary people
from then and now. a full body frontal
of what it truly was
to live
like kings, serpents and mice alike.
just fall into history
never come up for the eroding air
of here and now.

I know this is a blog, but we all find inspiration everywhere eh ~ Wish I coulda walked that path with you my friend, sounds wonderful.

 

[Tzara]

We were walking along one of the canals—the Prinsengracht, I think—on Sunday morning. Not that early, perhaps 9 AM, but there was no one about. Near a bridge, a drawbridge, there was a heron standing in the middle of the road, preening.

We snapped pictures, of course. We're tourists. Walked closer. The heron didn't move.

This was odd. Where we come from, you look at a heron cross-eyed, he (or she, of course) flies away. This Dutch heron didn't seem to mind. Posed for us, even.

The bird was so calm I felt it wanted us to come help nick its parasites.

A car came across the bridge and had to wait as the bird strolled off to the left, out of the right of way. The car was a Škoda. Czech car. We don't see those in the States.

 

[vampiredust]

Why do so many poets put © or write copyright on their poems (esp here but I've seen it on a few other places) ?

They'll write the shittest poem and put that symbol, thinking it's so great that somebody will steal it. That really pisses me off.

They ought to know better

 

[cherries_on_snow]

hehe true

The copyright symbol is most of the time a way to spot a new writer, to be sure. Must be something taught in the beginning writing seminars or something? Not sure what that's about.

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

this is not self pity...I feel cumbersome, like you don't even like me most of the time. Disintegrating right before my eyes, why is it our communication fails so miserably? There is no fault, no one is to blame. I felt like repetitive writing last night again and I stopped myself, I remember when you found the first one...you thought I was crazy.
Sometimes, I wonder if I am.
I wonder about him...is this all genetic? You dismiss it as dramatic, I call it passionate...some how it means more to me than you. I hate to feel this way because I can not see myself with anyone but you.
You wonder why I am not open with you...it's because of the way you make me feel. Why would I want you to be in that dark place? where you could do so much more damage. I think part of me is afraid to let you in because I don't know how much I can take...I am protecting myself and in turn poisoning myself.
I have secrets, deep and dark...I've heard the way you talk about others with those same secrets, the condemnation for the way they are. Childhood tragedy is no excuse for the mistakes of the present...I am not weak but I'm not sure I can be saved. God, I wish I could make you see.

 

[BooMerengue]

Why do so many poets put © or write copyright on their poems (esp here but I've seen it on a few other places) ?

They'll write the shittest poem and put that symbol, thinking it's so great that somebody will steal it. That really pisses me off.

They ought to know better

Lit places that symbol; I never have. and beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You may think my work is shitty while I think it's great. Different strokes, you know...

 

[annaswirls]

we are moving. I have so many things to get rid of, including the crib in the attic.

upon moving it I heard a bird squeeking
louder, too loud for the roof
closer and closer and there it was a little blind baby bird mouth wide open.

the poor thing! mama built a nest in our insulation? Jenny bird must have uncovered it!

I just had to tell someone because I am freaked out
tweeted out

 

[vampiredust]

feel mechanised

 

[RhymeFairy]

Seems I have bronchitis. Loss of voice and all that jazz. Dontcha just hate it when ya get a shot in the fanny? Ouchhhh ~!!! Will not be able to sit for a week. ~