]]> trixclibrarian replied to your post: Hotel de la Strange off exit ***** at the end of the road. forever. i love this creepy shit. oh. sorry i have to stop swearing in your comments. it’s rude but this is cool thanks and go for it. I think I have established that this blog is not for the easily offended.
Hotel de la Strange off exit ***** at the end of...
it’s raining in the hotel lobby, guests guess at the meaning of pool full of blood, a face can not be traced in deep end, nobody to excuse, nobody to blame, empty baby carriages directionlessly drift down street, separating bell hops and maids from looming prison, if four lefts are taken then psychiatric hospital will say hello, out of order room service serves trays of hot dementia, sex...
A Party In Which No One Shows Until It Begins
the pizza is drunk, beer cans threatening violence, the dog caught his tail started to believe in God, obese ashtray heart attackin’, smoke ‘em if you forgot ‘em,...
war machine death blues, counteracting medical looking glass, all things can be plausible, but not eventual, timing is everything in timelessness retrospect, keep up the good work young dove of something or other we need your respect to be disdainful of our own self reflective emoticons, it really is all we have.
Rough Lyrics written while listening to Captain...
send me cross country nachos I wanna see that cheese in my mailbox Stamps in my sour cream thought it was a magazine Send me cross country nachos Send me cross country nachos Muy Delicioso Early Christmas Jalapeno present Box of yummy yum yum yum Send me cross country nachos Don’t let the postman get them Salsa on the bills OH! Send me some cross country nachos! anyone feel free to add.
]]> nordsol replied to your post: ]]> nordsol replied to your post:… Me as well but maybe I should just go to the supermarket and buy some. If money was on my side I’d send you some overnight. mmmmmm…Cross Country Nachos. Sounds like a badass band/album name. I have a thing at a place tomorrow that has great nachos. I guess I’ll wait. The thought will get me through the...
]]> nordsol replied to your post: Haiku#348572072 Took the words right from me. I’d do funny things for nachos right now you and me both. I would vote for Mitt Romney for some nachos.
horny for nachos champagne river bath with God what you lookin’ at?
Poem of Stream of Consciousness with Slight...
hysterical first act two second love affair permitting no angst ridden action not even of those purse snatchers in burnt out New Haven flea markets for the resounding scream of cut throat inebriated house coat out patients could be heard from left field where slow motion fly catch wins the game for a baseball team made up entirely of material witnesses to this sordid crime of passionless plot...
]]> trixclibrarian replied to your post: A Poem of Streaming Consciousness hey! screw you, Senor but I really like this hahaha, no need for rudeness. I was typing a different tag in when that one automatically popped up(as previous tags do) and I said fuck it, why not. glad you liked it.
A Poem of Streaming Consciousness
wings wrap tasteless flock, If I had known you saw the panther I would have knocked, twice before selling short experiences of historical content to the majesties of global putrefaction.
cover the white house in black lights, dress your self in blue silk, let your hands go where they please, the movies on, but we’ll always miss it, skeletons of closeted sorrow, too grand to ignore, blame, settles with ease, pointing fingers to future, paranoid hopefuls confused by your weather- balloon launch party, last ditch effort to remain calm in shit storm America.
avoid the shitter, there is too much religion, almighty plunger.
troubled dreams sweating skin makes uncomfortable bed, pillow last seen with water bug cockroach, season of uncertainty, cradle head in arm, closed blinds and locked doors protect nothing from these looters of sound peaceful slumber, bigger headphones must be required, put everything out of sight and mind, relax, dream of burning city pleasantries, for once, you may have the upper hand.
watch desk drawer cell phone, vibrations announce loves text, time is running out.
Worry Wart Beach
take me down to the sea, I’ll ride a wave with my body still intact with my brain, skipping stones like humming birds falling in desert sands, we’ll have a picnic of someone else’s left-overs, I worry about failing the beauty of another sunrise, I worry about failing the words I could never speak, pick me up, set me down gently, a crash always seems to come at the last...
“Before I was twenty, I mean, I used to think that life was a thing that...– Paul Bowles -‘The Sheltering Sky’
A revolutionary hero needs to believe in humanity, I guess that I will just die a coward.
he gets high on grand delusions, always on a kick of cheap speak, falsifying mirror drenched passport mug shot, he plays his own devil whispering into inner-ear, you’re wrong you’re wrong you’re all wrong, but your intentions seem genuine, so carry on. she fell in love with the man he made up, gave all sweetly patiently, doubting doubts friends just didn’t know, he...
Poem Written As The House Became Mine
the lady of my heart, just rode off, weddings need employees as much as brides and grooms, she’ll be back, like every night, but until then lone beer and four legged friend keep me company, how shall I keep idle hands moving? keep at bay devils playground? Ideas will come as soon as music is picked out, if not, at least I’ll be busy.
honey bee live in, sheltering beneath,bare foot carnival ride sting.
]]> trixclibrarian replied to your photo: ‘Pondering In A Technicolor Fog’ by J.Gibbs nice…is there? texture around the mouth? how big? i really dig this, it’s so paradoxical good, friendly colorful but sad? happy song in a minor key or something like that, maybe? ug. ah thank you Jillc. No texture around mouth. It is 9.5” by 12”. Watercolor, pen, and ink that I don’t know...
Ten Thousand Leagues Under The Influence
Colossal feedback emanates, finger nail needs cutting, before the hangman waits for noose, and I, just a seeker, pulling bits from pieces, grave yard five finger candy store, for peanuts savagely left by Luciferian cub scouts, trolling internet avenues pursing three headed majority leader, slay the dragon on lunchboxes! High-Fructose Corn Spitters! Watch Out! Danger lurks all over this kitchen...
jibber jabber from a jim jam jabberwocky
avant-que-joublie: senseless rhymes and meaningless words, scrawled and forgotten - flowing lines and piercing words, carve and remembered - gibberish sandwiched between eloquence I second this wonderful motion!
]]> dimasmoonbeams replied to your post: Poem On Waiting for A/C Repairman A-C Repairman would have been there by now but he was updating his tumblr about how much he - wait for it - hates his job. Hope it cools off soon…. haha, thanks. he actually came once already(wait what?), but he had to go across town to grab a new motor. luckily it is still early and not 90+ degrees outside. I am...
Poem On Waiting for A/C Repairman
playing, waiting game on this Friday morn, want to shit, want to shower, won’t, knowing how this works, as soon as ass hits porcelain, naked body hits warm water, knock knock who’s there?
heat, heat, A/C why? can’t eat, read, draw, nap, jerk off, thank god for cold beer
Afternoon Poem Before Going Home to Check The A/C
hours between Seven-thirty in a em and twelve-thirty pee em can feel like days like lifetimes words written now forgotten words failed to be written now lost in skulls cavernous winds (I have faith that they will return) I am not the me I was when I woke could finally eating have something to do with it? simple sandwich changes whole of mind and body no different...
Denounce your clothes Maria, throw them in a pile next to my warped records and empty bottles, don’t worry, my conscious won’t bite, I swear, Maria Maria Maria let us deny the light, call ourselves prisoners of flesh, do you know that escape will come to those who penetrate the halls of social stigma, we are werewolves Maria, dance with me to tune of silver bullet orgasm, escape...
Poem On Youth an Ode To Aging
Shatter the windows, of childhood home shatter them with defunct notions from turmoil distance traveled year after aging year Torch backyard swing with flame of mornings not alone and nights too alone for dreaming Pay homage to scraped-knee sidewalks to forgotten Christmas tree mass grave to first kiss experience of many lips...
funeral procession black market friday buffet American Sex
]]> dimasmoonbeams replied to your post: You Said You Didn’t Know 10x happier than i was and i just read the first line…i won’t make line-by-line comments; promise… and I’m 10x happier with your comment. go ahead before commenting on poetry is outlawed.
You Said You Didn't Know
you said you didn’t know a beetle could be bigger than Jesus, you said you didn’t know there was a face on the moon, you said you didn’t know that all dictators were once children you said you didn’t know two parties is all it takes to ruin a country you said you didn’t know how to escape from monotonous ritualistic box you said you didn’t know if the egg or the...
It is humbling to know that very real possibilities exist, that eventually (as all things happen) someone somewhere will see my ghost, and rethink everything they thought they knew about life.
To Be Found
you sent me a postcard, post-marked showed the date of your mothers death, it read wish I was there, hope you’re having a good time, Now I am looking for you in a crowd full of strangers wondering where I misplaced all of my big ideas, your red hair is nowhere to be found, I’ve been living under a rock for too long hoping for the best, but the dead grass can’t get to me, ...
going down to the crossroads of dreamscapes and conscious mind, my eyes are speakers forecasting the weaving of black holes mimicking Saintly Hood Do I turn a cheek at trial of wrong and rights? Plead guilty to rot and rusted contraptions? I’ll seek out a town that has never heard of the pill form miracle. cross my fingers under full moon, know that everything will be o.k.
]]> dimasmoonbeams replied to your post: delicate-genius replied to your post: ]]>… i’m lost but laughing anyway. (probably why first dates always went so poorly…) trust me, i don’t think you want to know. I have gotten in bad spots many times for laughing at wrong times due to lostness.
Haiku For Tumblr Conversation About Work
series of inside jokes, truth is stranger than fiction, it’s down right absurd
delicate-genius replied to your post: ]]> delicate-genius replied to your post: ]]>… i don’t think it counts as a health risk since HR would probably prefer if the person involved was dead hahahahaha. but who will illegally plant fig trees on State Property?
]]> delicate-genius replied to your post: ]]> dimasmoonbeams replied to your post: Great… nobody seems to understand. people wash vegetables in the bathroom here. we are surrounded by people who call themselves “tumbleweed” and “velvet scorpion”. i wish i was a dead horse being beaten right now and that is just the events of the last 7 hours. there is still an hour to go to add to...
]]> dimasmoonbeams replied to your post: Great Resurrecter Love Beating that dead horse: so you hate your job, huh? I don’t know whats wrong, but for the life of me I can’t stop writing about how much I hate my job. I should switch to 90’s sitcoms.
Great Resurrecter Love
Love Love great resurrecter of innocence childish glee puppy dog crush running in meadow in rain umbrella-less in snow stopping to make angel snowman icicle popsicle no matter how ...
]]> dimasmoonbeams replied to your post: Innocence Requires No Coffin i love this already and i’ve only read the title hopefully the poem lives up to the title’s hype. p.s. thanks.
Innocence Requires No Coffin
Innocence requires no coffin, no grave dug six feet deep for body, insects feast not on innocence flesh, robbers of graves will find no bones, tombstone spot marking seen on no map, maturity will gain no chance to dance on innocence grave, I search and search and search, lost in memories, lost in decisions, both poor and intelligent, hoping to find moment or series of moments like a person...
Wicked Statues, Bed Sores and Pint Glasses
gust of breath scatters bed sores across lips of ladies pledging to house of corruption, holding hands with wicked statues of men who were noble beyond reasonable degree of hatred is the only way to taunt fire fly bullies out of hiding, all is lost when everything found begins a new chain of letters to cosmic pen pals, here’s looking at you though mirrored words reflected in pint glasses...
the spider weaves webs, but wears no clothes in which to strip, If only I could harvest food from personal property eye lids everything would make sense? a fine suit like canvas paints ones body in art of fabric with out a doubt, we are...
note found in pocket, to whom this may concern, trade youth for my old age?
Back At Work or Why Am I Not Still On Vacation...
back, back again behind desk trying to write poem on two days in paradise Frio river with friends with pups but how can one pack in so many good times into one poem this early in the morning? no, a loving tenderness must be used in word usage and choice, pictures all lined up on a wall conjure up the splendid laughter of unified joy, too many little events to recall at this...