| Ragdoll |
[22 Aug 08\11:20pm] |
You owe me the world
and the home gone missing,
or a touch of ample lips
I regret ever kissing.
I'm clinging to your hands
laced with my leftovers,
rising champagne glasses for
newlywed wasteland lovers.
These hopes burn rekindled.
My beloved napalm child -
Put down the gasoline.
Put it down, put them out.
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| Magnum Opus |
[7 Aug 08\12:56am] |
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 2
The Challenge
I got up shockingly early this morning wearing last night's mismatched socks and sporting my latest fashion of getting weighed down by the bags beneath my eyes, sticking out so proudly.
( Read more... )
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| Girl on Fire |
[1 Jun 08\11:28am] |
I shun my cheating idols,
they only do me wrong
but to starve like homeless artists
it's only been so long.
She comes from distant galaxies
and sets my world on fire
with fragile smoke-kissed fingertips
as thin as Viceroy cigarettes.
This world did nothing to deserve you.
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| The Saga of Spring |
[30 Mar 08\11:49pm] |
I've seen the Sun give birth to Spring. I've seen it caress her newborn with hands shaped like rays the size of rainbows. The proudest of mothers whispered in soft winds. The warm breeze grazed my fingertips, and my eyes widened with joy upon discovering magical shades of golden green, created when the toddler leaves and the Sun touched for the very first time.
My lips separated and my nostrils expanded slowly, allowing me to inhale the sweetest mixture of sunkissed grass, wild flowers and oxygen. I stole a tiny fragment of May, tucking it carefully deep into my lungs before it even had a chance to escape and leave me all alone in the middle of oversized fields. I looked through the hypnotizing branches up to the tree tops, homes of the boldest of birds. Their beaks seemed so close to touching the playful cirrus clouds, glazing the midday sky like whipped cream.
Children and wild canaries grew friendships, singing in perfect harmony. The pollen would sometimes land on the top of my head, tracing yellow patterns in my hair. It politely greeted the daisies I had braided in there just this morning. I fed on the Sun's graceful ballet, enjoying her well rehearsed choreography - she wrapped herself around every strand of grass, punctured the glittering spiderwebs and ran over my shoulder, giving me sweet kisses all over, starting from the tip of my nose, going all the way to the soles of my shoes. But the routine eventually exhausted the young mother, for she could no longer keep up with the demanding tempo of racing clocks. I reached out in a final attempt to pull out a strand of her golden hair so I could savor it for all eternity, or maybe just boast to all my friend about being kissed by the most beautiful of all stars. They would eat their hearts out. Alas, she was already slipping away, so I clumsily waved goodbye. I caught one last glimpse of her before she finally took off her dancing shoes and fell down facing west.
The Moon dived into the sky followed by flocks of diamond stars. He scared off groups of painters and poets competing for his daughters' affection. Not even the exceptionally talented ones seemed to be worthy of capturing her everlasting beauty. I bowed down to the prince of the night, foxily eliding the fact that my footsteps yearned for a baby morning.
Writer's Note: inspired by Panic at the Disco's "When the Day Met the Night" and of course the infinite beauty that mother nature created.
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| Poetry |
[30 Mar 08\11:47pm] |
I have scraped most of my work from '06. I moved on to different subjects now, and back then pretty much all of my work were monotonous, depressing subjects and forced rhyming. It's something I needed to go through to mature as a writer but I am ready to put it all behind me and start over.
the ones I thought deserved to be posted here are behind the cut.
( poetry )
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| Sex and Cigarettes |
[30 Mar 08\11:42pm] |
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
CHAPTER 3
Thank You
This hideous collision of reason and feelings was over before it ever started. It's as if I was the lucky son of a bitch, the drunk behind the steering wheel who inflicted the death of all his passengers, yet managed to walk away without a scratch.
( Read more... )
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| Sex and Cigarettes |
[30 Mar 08\11:34pm] |
Chapter 1
CHAPTER 2
How May I Pleasure You Tonight?
For a girl with such a notorious job I sure had a nice apartment.
Persian rugs and steam showers.
( Read more... )
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| Sex and Cigarettes |
[30 Mar 08\10:46pm] |
I am a call girl and a prostitute. I don't love what I do - I loathe it. But the longer you are in this vortex of cost-effective intercourse, the less you miss your pride once it gets swallowed by the night and the sharp, shimmering stars slice it up into tiny little pieces.
I don't know where I'm going - but that's the beauty of it.
CHAPTER 1
The Woman
Have you ever felt so atrociously filthy that you just wanted to vomit your vast feeling of guilt along with your insides? I know I have.
( Read more... )
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Writer's Note: I've gotten good critique for this one. Completely blunt and uncensored.
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| Catalyst |
[30 Mar 08\10:41pm] |
My body was the most intriguing crime scene, tagged by your brusque fingerprints only.
written on October 12th, 2007
Dearest, had I not seen your dilated pupils carefully examine for the hundredth time the skin stretched over my bones I would have never guessed your promises of platonic love were mere lies, so carelessly scattered on the bedroom floor. My body was the most intriguing crime scene, tagged by your brusque fingerprints only.
All my sagacity is absolutely trivial once these lips of smeared red arouse your cheap fantasies of creaking headboards and violent hipbones. And I'd bet a fortune you'd love nothing more than to watch me sweat bullets like the shameless whore you have so inadvertently raised me as.
You've carefully laced your words in thick spiderwebs, painted silver by moonlight's voyeurism. Yet my lace lingerie hasn't moved from the spot where you left it. Slowly I boycott your bedsheets and emigrate to the edge of the worn out mattress. Is it any wonder the two sloppily stamped stars on the motel entrance door put my smile to shame?
Writer's note: Used. Abused. Stop taking sex for granted.
Thank you, ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) thinxasxaxdime for pointing me in the right direction :*
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| Magnum Opus |
[30 Mar 08\10:34pm] |
Alexandre Beaumont, a young photographer and comic book artist, tries to learn about himself and seek the purpose to his existence. Feeling like yet another petty artist in the big city of Paris, he tries to win the battle against ignorance and indifference.
CHAPTER 1
The Discovery
started July 17th, 2007
You know how back at school they told you stories of artists? They pointed their index finger at those cheap replacements for original masterpieces and pretended to know how to break the enigma. You'd think they could put that same exact index finger on what really mattered. They desperately needed big, formal words in order to sound like they actually knew what the hell they were talking about.
( Read more... )
Writer's note: one day I'll bring myself to write more of this. Promise.
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