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Mood: ZZzzzz,,,...___

...Created 2009-10-27 00:28:57

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Mood: Thinking...

I'm totally over posting poems so every Tom, Dick & Harry can read them. Instead, I'll slap one or two here and there into this journal... yeah?



'Cataluna's Song'


She forgets
what excess means, gorges herself
on sleepless nights and pills from some back-alley dealer,
tunes her bruised guitar and sings of endless light in Barcelona—
where the boys are bold and the women rule the art of flamenco
and paella. It's there, she says, where passion and virtue
are entwined and familiar: a black cat's fur
on a white leather couch.

Sing of the road and watch the stars revolve, she'll always say—
for this night is tattooed upon all our fingertips: green eyes and red earth
a marriage of perfection and fluid hips, of temptation being a shrine
to anoint with fevered lips.

Bring an ocean with you, and know this world
forgets while she tries to sleep.



21/10/09

__________________________________________________________________

This is an accompaniment to Cataluna and Her Strings - Cataluna, to me, being a female personification of the Catalonian region of Spain, and also the brand name of my first ever guitar, haha. Also, I'm part Spanish and its history, culture and food has always appealed to me (along with Greece and Italy, but that's a side-note).

Um, I wrote this today at work and fiddled with it constantly. It's funny - how it evolved from two five line stanzas to how it is now: a sonnet as such (being fourteen lines), but with buried rhymes instead of end-liners (which I'm not a big fan of because they're so damn cheesy and clunky and obvious, eh).

Anyway, damn, I ramble.
I have a million pm's to deal with...
Spot ya later, gator.

...Created 2009-10-21 00:57:35

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Mood: Relaxing



'long bay picnics'


sunflowers
midori, patched
blanket under
cliff face
tree
and it is
silent~silent
reverie, this

union of
light and
cloud
soft
ocean
vines
trailing over
our
looking
glass


18/10/09


...Created 2009-10-17 22:08:07

dotsJournal: dots
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Mood: Relaxing



'long bay picnics'


sunflowers
midori, patched
blanket under
cliff face
tree
and it is
silent~silent
reverie, this

union of
light and
cloud
soft
ocean
vines
trailing over
our
looking
glass


18/10/09

...Created 2009-10-17 22:05:01

dotsJournal: dots
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Mood: Lazy


'long bay picnics'


sunflowers
midori, patched
blanket under
cliff face
tree
and it is
silent~silent
reverie, this

union of
light and
cloud
soft
ocean
vines
trailing over
our
looking
glass


18/10/09

...Created 2009-10-17 21:24:53

dotsJournal: dots
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Mood: Straightening things out...

...over it.
time to go underground.
*digs*

yes, i need a break from this place.
it's a periodic thing. or maybe it's male p.m.s,
who the fuck knows... or cares.


'pantomime'


this day should be quicker; a soft turn of ankle to
sunlight reminds me of the month i never visited rome
loaded up on euros and the scent of adventure winding
through the clouds that look somehow like dean and monroe
entwined in some bizarre position best shielded from nine
year old eyes which only want mama to come home, for each
weekly cheque to mean something more than a barely filled
fridge and an empty belly to take to school and back.

this day should be endless; wildfire and sky and desire
should meet in a summer explosion of cum and satin sheets
and mandarin skins you would throw in my face because
you say this lack of laughter is unholy and the cause of
crusades filled with grumpy old men too concerned
with mana and power over a game of charades
and i would believe you.

bella, come take me home.


14/10/09

p.s. pm me here or hit me up on facebook. but don't leave messages on my page here... call it a privacy thing, yeah?

nods.

...Created 2009-10-15 00:15:31

dotsJournal: dots
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Mood: Straightening things out...


...over it.
time to go underground.
*digs*

yes, i need a break from this place.
it's a periodic thing. or maybe it's male p.m.s,
who the fuck knows... or cares.


'pantomime'


this day should be quicker; a soft turn of ankle to
sunlight reminds me of the month i never visited rome
loaded up on euros and the scent of adventure winding
through the clouds that look somehow like dean and monroe
entwined in some bizarre position best shielded from nine
year old eyes which only want mama to come home, for each
weekly cheque to mean something more than a barely filled
fridge and an empty belly to take to school and back.

this day should be endless; wildfire and sky and desire
should meet in a summer explosion of cum and satin sheets
and mandarin skins you would throw in my face because
you say this lack of laughter is unholy and the cause of
crusades filled with grumpy old men too concerned
with mana and power over a game of charades
and i would believe you.

bella, come take me home.


14/10/09

...Created 2009-10-13 23:22:55

dotsJournal: dots
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Mood: Straightening things out...


...over it.
time to go underground.
*digs*

...Created 2009-10-13 00:37:40

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Mood: Juggling Tasks


'saffron'


desire
needs no notation
simply a scarf
to wrap around your belly
if for no other reason
that it makes
no sense

heave stars
and sprinkle berries
into a bowl
draw the curtains
close
and forget
there is darkness
here

here, a dune erodes


12/10/09

...Created 2009-10-12 03:25:47

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Mood: i can rhyme too, muhfuka XD



'manifesto'


with no reservations, no straitjacket to hold me in
because reason becomes insanity and no becomes a yes
if only you let it consume you, beat you down into one helluva mess
named unrequited desire and empty expanses of flesh

there should be a world where satisfaction is queen, no less
where flames and ocean and the dirt of our bodies can co-exist
so that we may shout to the rooftops while perfoming parkour in paris
or jump the canals and bridges lining a sinking and stinking venice

sew every word together to form a speech of no set equation
of sugary beats meant to destroy etiquette and illusion

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...Created 2009-10-09 17:35:09