January 2011
8 posts
Dust
In each compartment of my life I store a little dust
Lost memories and broken things
I can’t throw away
The siding that is wrought with rust
Or the vines that strangle structures
the calloused finger tips
cracked lips
those specks of dust that cluster
Missing Poem 2
the heart beneath my cheek mimics poe in the darkness
the dampness of our skin, one sheath of slightly humid saturating flesh pressed close to my ear listening
your removal from my skin makes it sigh sadly, cry badly and the sting is deeper than one would imagine all of the poets do not warn you of the pain their words are floaty, avoiding it making game but any poet knows the anguish is...
Missing Poem
the fragile veil of real and reconed is either gone or made of lace to thin and viscus to be real the truth in simple plain words beckons, and between us shroads are fallen you’ve seen me bare and broken and bawling i know we’re children I know we’re crawling we’ll build a fort of string and cloth and carnage and hide away until the morning and when the sun doth us...
3 tags
The Winter Wood
The Winter Wood, a story for September
by, Brynnah
We set out just as travelers and along the way made lovers
and we wandered through the winter wood and we lost ourselves you and I
then I lost you and you never said goodbye and we lost each other in the winter wood
then I lost myself and I lost my mind
and you wandered by unseen for I had gone blind
for losing...
3 tags
3 tags
Useless Suffering
So recently I have become obsessed with Genocide. No this does not mean you should be worried about my intentions to destroy a population of people I simply cannot wrap my head around Genocide, it is useless and terrible and I need to do something to make it stop.
How you ask?
Good question.
I’m not sure yet. Somehow however this has derailed my life. It’s like the pain of a small...