North, to Alaska"The sea is walking in the streets. The sea is dangling from windows and the branches of shriveled trees. The sea drops from the sky and comes into the room. Blue, white, foam, waves. I don't like the sea. I don't want the sea, because I don't see a shore, or a dove. I see in the sea nothing except the sea."
~opaquediaphanousness
just two big wordsPoem Hidden In a Paper Swan
Newest
BrandyBrandyBrandy
Caramel and flush of someone’s hand melting on your thigh. Sharp cut ginger like teeth on your lips, harsh
and gently opening. Here is the slow bloom of summer with the insane teal of the ocean frothing against the stoic and weary rock while the thin trills of wrens and the gulping caws of pelicans seep into grapes that will, later, sleep and sleep and sweetly rot in the darkness of oaks. Such things, such dreams of the dead stirred, warmed, released
with the simple cup and pause of your hand, your definitive mouth.
by ~opaquediaphanousness
ButtoningButtoningButtoning
Certain things want to be opened. Carefully, by worn fingers: the tight cotton around your neck; my hot belly. Winter-drenched letters.
Then, there are things that must be closed. Gently. The light around your baby’s coiled arms, dear mother-friend; the sounds of certain
names in our throats; the case of my pillow over all the brittle dream-faces that I must keep.
by ~opaquediaphanousness
Persephone RepliesPersephone RepliesPersephone Replies
Somehow I knew—even then, even dizzy with honeysuckle—that summer
would never be enough.
Have you ever felt, lying in the tangy grass— sweet and glittery with heat and dragonflies— a cold promise brush your shoulder blade, an approaching shudder of dark mouths rise and press against your back?
Before him, there were flowers. Nothing but narcissus and asters, drowning me
in pollen.
Then there was He. And you, who I know have been only among the dying,
can never imagine what his skin tastes l
by ~opaquediaphanousness
Random Favourites
The Candy Is Also A LieLola, don't believe them. Everything they tell you is a lie. That skinny stray you find in the street--The Candy Is Also A Lie
a warm bag-of-sticks-and-licks, all shagpile
and love, your very own-- don't listen
when they say it has a home to go to, a family,
and will find its way back. Slide your window up
late one night, and whisper into the dark all
the bad and secret things you know, three times.
Nobody will come for you. Don't fall for the story
when they swear it is not your Uncle Len
behind that beard. Lola, they will lie to you,
so turn your face away from their clumsy, catfis
by =salshep
Selling SexSelling SexSelling Sex
October 12, 2007: Rani Mukherjee does a Julia Roberts in her latest film, Laaga Chunari Mein Daag, playing “the hooker with a heart of gold”; in early 2004, Kareena Kapoor played the unsophisticated and street-smart Chameli, a prostitute from south Mumbai. What do these films have in common? Big names and big budgets. The list of actresses who have played prostitutes onscreen is as long as it is varied: Shirley MacLaine, Jodie Foster, Mira Sorvino, and Kim Basinger among others in Hollywood; Shabana Azmi, Rekha, Sushmita Sen, and Neha Dhupia are some of the many Indian women who have done the same. &n
by `lovetodeviate
Seven Reasons Why I Loved You.Seven Reasons Why I Loved You.
i. seven hours
are spent waxing lyrical and kissing your eyelashes in the library, studying. you mouth the third knuckle on my right hand, and memorize the hollow of my cheek. ii. tender kisses press like
by ~Dibujando
Here You Are. Here We Were.1995Here You Are. Here We Were.
we dig a hole to china in the sandbox two feet deep. we name it victory and cry on tuesday when the janitor comes at night and fills it in quietly, tamping the sand with his broad hands.
1999
alice jennings sobs in the bathroom. i wash my hands five times before i ask what is wrong.
“fuck off bitch,” she says. “ok,” i say, and dry my hands carefully.
later i will draw her a picture of a sun, fold it into an origami star and then go home and tear it into 1,000 pieces.
200
by ~Dibujando
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Time for Change
The Red Faced Barn
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Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art
©iampoetry
ღ
--
Be inspired: *simplypoetry and *simplyprose.
--
Poetry is truly boundless. It is my passion, writing to you, that is. I am the canvas.
--
my poetry, lemon
both bitter and tart
you decide the taste of my art
©iampoetry
ღ
--
"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous. "
-Ingrid Bergman
--
“Now me lay down to sleep.
Mow da zeebas down like sheep.
Give dem to me nice and dead.
Me no happy ‘til me fed.”
-Bedtime prayer of crocs, Pearls Before Swine
--
[kmw]
as it was meant to be - bokonon (vonnegut's cat's cradle)
--
All sapient beings evade what evolution shaped [them] for. --Larry Niven
--
All sapient beings evade what evolution shaped [them] for. --Larry Niven
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