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Yes my Heather Nova obsession continues (soft.sad)(smile)
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the best image of the rose my grey eyes have lusted upon in eons
captured are the elegant curves, textures, shadings of all adored; feminine
sighs evoked and pleasures remembered
of the days and nights we surrendered.
"Throw Away Poetry" for JunobyJuno by BeforeSheWilted
(c) Amanda 2012
Things my eyes have seen and tried to tell me:
:thumb302256376:
:thumb304266067:
the best image of the rose my grey eyes have lusted upon in eons
captured are the elegant curves, textures, shadings of all adored; feminine
sighs evoked and pleasures remembered
of the days and nights we surrendered.
"Throw Away Poetry" for JunobyJuno by BeforeSheWilted
(c) Amanda 2012
Things my eyes have seen and tried to tell me:
Mature Content
:thumb302256376:
.April ending.
.April ending.
Twitter™ is also like this, her search through detritus layers of life; linear in procedure. Time as lines, the TL: a wanted sequence for us to cling to even knowing the quantum cosmology of particle and wave mechanics. Twitter does not randomly present us. Neglecting even the theme sequence groupings which is a more likely portrayal of our natures.
It is left to us to paint our own contrails.
Across her words lay themes, not necessarily unique or original, but hers. An underlying hum of message machinery, not to be heard but sensed, felt.
The longing for the extraneous 'power' to which we cling, adhere, our desire fo
. backgrounds .
. backgrounds .
eat me play me
.
"And it feels as though God has abandoned you … in a stark place."
-A. Christie-
.
.
An arrangement of pieces, choreography of accidental encounters each of which denied them a presence or indicated any possible progress.
.
I do not command, I obtain.
.
She'd belittled the Plath of me, that small measure which i yet adored; that then, became a tipping point in our conjectured inevitability.
.
in crush
you lick
the soil soul of
my backgrounds
.
I'll make you quiet.
.
slicing through the young
smiling
alcohol ghost
.
I'll make you run.
.
driv
.upon surrender.
.upon surrender.
.
... only she knows ...
.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
E.Bishop
.
i sang
.
touch stones without remark tumbled
one after another
pathway footsteps
unnoted
one
after
another
no clack of disapprovals shed
one after another
creek bed’s
surrender
ocean’s
slickened
staid
.
as though i were an insult though they never spat me out
as though i were a crime they'd committed in dead of night
as though i were several different outfits now out
.last love.
.last love.
.
Why?
because i want to see beautiful things
think beautiful things
dream beautiful things
.
.
Oh they're running t'old steam engine tour train through t'valley today. God i wish i was having coal smoke and burning cinders blowin in my face. *picturing the screaming flaming tourists beating each other*
Fuck me with a jackhammer humans ARE the funniest damn creatures. Mom to six year old child "Hurry honey get that pretty summer frock on, we've got to catch the open air tour train!" Two hours later the scorched-hair tour family clambers offa the Old Timey tour train ... "Now wasn't THAT fun!"
And you know what REALLY ma
© 2012 - 2024 Amanda-Graham
Comments9
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<3 Thank you love for the feature but also for the music.
I have been so caught up in my own love story and my work that I have not had a moment to chat with you. I am wishing you well, you always turn me on to the best music. Your first song brought almost-tears to my eyes and I'm not sure why.
I have been so caught up in my own love story and my work that I have not had a moment to chat with you. I am wishing you well, you always turn me on to the best music. Your first song brought almost-tears to my eyes and I'm not sure why.