| Check out these glorious pieces I've favourited |


Somewhat - out.Somewhat awake, lying magnetically on a hospital bed of Satie - surprised, peaceful, talkative.Somewhat - out.
An Indian nurse is smiling, point-nosed - dark skin white teeth. Been dreaming the balanced piano.
Sleep wakes up and climbs out.


You - process.You smile melancholy cheek brown eyes a-twinkle - humour adept at penetrating worry.You - process.
I follow the process.


She - space.She stands naked in a puddle. A Yellow Wagtail hops about her feet. She fails to notice. Raindrops stream down her cheeks and body.She - space.
Low clouds get caught in damp strands of her hair, become her attire. Clothed, she stares through the atmosphere into space.


Ghost - outside.Ghost is disconnected and happily occupies a concept that has yet to be conceptualised.Ghost - outside.
A smiling girl asks after the safety of Ghost but gets no response despite being honest.
Rain falls ignorantly on the sweet girls face but Ghost isn't aware of anything outside.


OilskinI thought of the sun today. Of the windy pampas dunes, And the water; its old hues. How the sky met more sky, Filled with birdflight specks, Bright kites and cotton flecks.Oilskin
I remember. They used to dance together.
But oh, how time flies. And oh, how my glassy eyes Scan the crude oilskin, Searching for reflections.


Thoughts While Making....He's just a cardboard statue pointing fingers, dictating rules. Facing the west, he claims and strangles your pulse for explosions, the ache for living.Thoughts While Making....
Born with Medusa's snakes for hair, you slip into volcano longing, the line that trails into
rat poison side streets, a detour for saliva syrup.
subtraction| Check out these glorious pieces I've favourited |
--
Leandro Aka Aslanim
My DA - [link]
--
"They say that at poetry slams and protests we are preaching to the choir, and that our real goal should be to reach the people outside this forum, but we are not the choir. WE ARE NOT THE FUCKING CHOIR." - jared paul
--
Usque adeo ne
Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter?
I have been writing a lot recently. Sorry about that.
--
peace and love
i am what I imagine. my very existence consists in my imagination of myself
[link]
Super appreciated!
--
If a man who cannot count finds a four-leaf clover, is he lucky? ~Stanislaw J. Lec
[link] <-- please?
~I feel like a mushroom when you keep me in the dark and feed me shit.
Previous Page12345...Next Page