February 2012
16 posts
5 tags
This is a Poem about Feet
I want to press our feet together
I want our souls touching
I want to feel every mile you’ve walked
Every bridge you’ve crossed
I don’t care if it smells
I want to walk under your arches
Shelter myself from the rain
And know you
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This is a war that cannot be fought with weapons
But with words
Unsheathe your pens and throw away your erasers
We’ve no time for mistakes
Sharpen your pencils
My blood is pumping with lead I have not yet bombed onto paper
Open your fists and turn them into outstretched hands
Reaching forward
Palms turned up toward a sky split down the middle
Rain pouring out of the open veins we call...
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This is a war that cannot be fought with weapons
So open your fists and turn them into outstretched hands
Reaching forward
Do not get down onto their level
But pull them up onto yours
This is a five-finger life raft that you have to choose to get on
Think of the lives you could save
Not the ones you could ruin
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Lamentations of an almighty being
How can you expect me
to keep these feet
so firmly planted on the ground?
These feet don’t belong to me.
It’s not as easy as it sounds.
I was everything,
in every sense of the term.
I was the sun,
the moon,
the stars,
all
at
once.
I was every sunrise
and every sunset,
every constellation,
every nebula,
every black hole;
I was the universe and the universe was I and...
“nobody can save you but
yourself.
you will be put again and again
into nearly...”
– sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems - Charles Bukowski (via spiritd3sire)
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The Neverending Battle Against Writer's Block: An...
A/N: I had to write a humor piece for Creative Writing last year, and I threw this up. I was going through my flash drive from last year and just stumbled upon it, so enjoy it or something.
I am going to be completely honest with you: I am a hilarious person. No, it’s true! I am just too funny. I’m so funny, that I’m almost dangerous. Everywhere I go, I leave behind me a path of doubled over, out...
7 tags
Dean/Cas fic: Based on 7.17
taxicab:
“Cas?”
The name, just one syllable, comes out shaky. Dean breathes it out, testing the way it rolls off his tongue, almost unfamiliar.
Read More
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It's Not Easy Being Suckish
Lucy, Keith and I are in a band. We’ve been playing music together since we were in diapers, banging pots and pans together in the kitchen and annoying the hell out of whoever’s mother was watching us that day. Lucy’s on drums, Keith plays bass and I (Hi, I’m Daisy.) play guitar and sing. Our band is called…well…we don’t seem to have a set name yet, since it keeps changing every week. This week I...
7 tags
You have not fallen so much as you have descended...
We pulled the sky over us like a blanket
And the stars called your name
Asking you to join them
I held you in my arms, I swear
I have never seen you look so small
You extended your hand upward
Reaching
“my wings are gone,”
You murmured
To them more than I
And those words held the weight of a planet
I kissed your temple and said nothing
You still long for the sky
But I...
6 tags
Excuse me, can I have the time?
The sea of people moves in choppy waves along the street. They all blend together into corresponding colours of blacks and browns and grays. It is a truly boring sight to look on at such blandness. But coming into view is a lovely vision. A head of bright red appears and stands out against everything like a daisy in a rose bush. The sea of choppy waves seems to part and flow even more smoothly as...