I have alot more poetry that I have to post even though no-one watches it. More sketches need editing and uploading.


Circa Amor FatiI made you dinner on the roof When the tree fell on our house We leaned against the chimney Drinking warm wine and saltinesCirca Amor Fati
The phone no longer ringing, The machines no longer humming, Your hand found mine in twilight And you brought the flashlights out
We flashed our beams up to the stars To a time where people live on mars And you told me that when were old Well live in the light we made together
Our voices echoed through the trees− Through the air that connects all living things To a child whistling in the streets of R


Six dollars a dozenA woman in a black trench coat And French heels−she hoped To study fashion in Paris−Six dollars a dozen
Sells romantic tissue
On the corner of East and Third
White, red and pink The colors of a beating heart Lucid and delicate, They breathe life into the city− Elegance in the dark
She sells her flowers
For six dollars a dozen So that you may buy pity Hope, rage or love,
If only for one night


Lets quietly judge each otherThat girl loves Pink Floyd but she doesn't tell her friends because only Rap is cool.Lets quietly judge each other


Things Left Behind, UnsaidHe would catch her reflection And the girl looking backThings Left Behind, Unsaid
Would look somewhere else For she was a photograph An afterimage, what they once had
Distant and irregular, She would call out─− 'Have you found it yet?'
And pausing in thought,
(If only for a moment)
He would reach─− In a most desperate way
Pawing at the landscape
Until his hand came upon
His manifest─−
Laden with
Secret things he could Only hope were Imperfect with mystery
The fabric breathed upon
by *sergey1984
by *LazyGunn
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sodyba
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Well, if it isn't fat stinking billygoat Billyboy in poison. How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly, thou.
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My gallery: [link]
My scraps: [link]
your stuff looks cool.
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do i care? really. do i?
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People think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shite, which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it.
--
ada
What doesn't kill you, makes you stranger.
My global position systems are vocally adressed; they say the Nile used to run from east to west.
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