i miss it.its better than a myspace-er.
or a gaia-er.
or a livejournal-er.
im back. promise.
Newest
no dance crazes hereWe are the travellers that sing secret songs Of how scraggely faced children don't belong in heat We are the mystics that kiss with gypsy tongues And dance with nomad feet We pat pat our way down to the equator Sing songing and flip flopping our mystefyingly hip hopping beats And then we stop and see We see the skyline be audited by adults as they plaudit and smiiiile In their forty piece suits with their offkey loots and over-shined boots And we take away thirty-nine, give them the time, and spit Because we are the future, the mist, and this one-two-three doesn't ever fucking quitno dance crazes here
by ~xizzle
elegyi SPEAK a new language and though words inked can sting like a double-barreled shotgun to the stomach these words SPOKEN will have you beaten, bruised by the same molded industrious metal before it spills you in a beautiful ejaculation of realization and pools of deflated rainbow surmises i SPEAelegy
by ~xizzle
future spEAkMechanic joints slip into silent motion, dynamically drone chips trying to compensate. Rows upon rows of patented perfection, reaching the ends of the world and beyond. Apparantly we were right in the first place, it really is flat. Original sin has ripened and rotted from the tree branches, it's last hope picked away by scavenging crows. They've left by this point now, too. On the hilltop overlooking the revolution, retribution, execution of evolution, is where we lay. Bones to bones, skin to skin, flesh to flesh, soul to soul. The metallic taste painted into the walls of our mouth is chipped away by salt,future spEAk
by ~xizzle
Favourites
nerudai want to read your bodyneruda
like neruda poem
written in braille,
my fingers searching
the pages of your skin,
gently brushing away
the hair that falls like a silken bookmark
across your face. i will work my way down the page, hands
trembling with excitement, anticipating which words
will follow. fingers will linger in some areas, reread, so that on lonely nights like this one I will
be able to recite the subtle nuances of
your neck or the mystery surrounding your navel. I would try to interpre
by ~dreamsnhazel
HIT ME RUNNINGDon’t sell me funeral plots on late night television if the end is already in sightHIT ME RUNNING
am I supposed to pull the sheets up to my neck, count to zero, smile, and cease?
no
keep your pills, in all their pretty colors: celebrex, propecia, allegra, lipitor, zanex, viagra keep them for scrabble keep your rogaine, your facelifts keep your death insurance keep your graveyard reservations
hit me running.
let me go down swinging
make it a sport:
give me a ten-minute head start and an obstacle course.
by ~foxthepoet
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I'm beginning to give up on trusting humanity and instead I'm trusting life.
Love Jesse
much thanx for the watch!
everything cool?
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"There are two kinds of people in this world that go around beardless—boys and women—and I am neither one."
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Okan Özdemir Photography
My gallery [link]
My Web Site [link] - okanozdemir.com
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